The Experiment
by Titan5
Summary: Sheppard is the subject of an unauthorized experiment and he isn't having much fun. A little ShepWeir in places. McKayShep friendship stuff as usual.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I have any rights to Stargate Atlantis or its characters.

Chapter One

John Sheppard looked at his watch as he hurried down the hall. He was ten minutes late and he was quite sure that McKay was going to kill him. As he reached the open door to the lab, he peeked around the corner. Seeing no one in the room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He might just get out of this yet. He walked quickly over to the stool he usually occupied when working with McKay. Just as his seat touched the chair, a voice exploded from the far corner of the room.

"Major!" Sheppard jumped. "I said 8:00 a.m., not 8:10. Do you need a lesson in telling time or just the importance of being punctual? I would have thought military training would have taught you a little something about getting to your post on time. Don't you have to dig holes or clean latrines or something when you're late?"

"Jeez, McKay! Why don't you give me a heart attack next time? It's only ten minutes. Atlantis won't collapse because I'm ten minutes late. Look, I'm sorry. I got...held up."

McKay had walked over to the opposite side of the work bench and began arranging things to his satisfaction. "So, exactly what held you up? Big breakfast?"

"No...I never actually made it to breakfast. Come to think of it, I haven't even had coffee yet. Would you happen to have any here?" Sheppard looked around for the coffee pot he knew had to be there.

"You show up ten minutes late and now you want me to make you coffee? I am NOT you butler. Coffee pot is on the counter over there," he said, waving his hand. "Make your own. What were you doing that you missed breakfast? Carson and I keep telling you that you need to eat. Maybe I should give him a call and let him know your skipping meals."

Sheppard was busy making coffee, but he turned around briefly. "Oh good grief, McKay, you big tattletale. It's one meal. I was running, if you must know. Wouldn't hurt you to try it sometime. I was up early, so I got an early start and the morning was so perfect for running...guess I lost track of time and ran farther that I usually do. Unfortunately, then it took me a little longer to get back than I had planned. I barely had time to shower and change."

"Well, thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to shower. I'm sure my nose will appreciate that as the day wears on."

"Hah! Hah!" said Sheppard sarcastically as he hit the on switch to the coffee pot. "I think you and Beckett want me to eat and get fat because you're jealous."

"Jealous of what?" asked McKay increduously.

Sheppard perched back on the stool. "Jealous of the fact that I pretty much weigh what I did in high school. Actually, it's about ten or fifteen pounds less. Basic training shaved a few pounds off, along with a couple of stints in foreign countries with strange food." Sheppard crossed his arms and smiled mischieviously.

McKay began shaking his head. "I don't think so." He patted his stomach. "Carson and I just have a little reserve supplies in case of emergency. We have a lot of those around here, in case you haven't noticed. You, on the other hand, go seriously underweight every time you get injured or sick and can't eat regularly. You have no padding. I bet you're cold all the time too, aren't you. You've always got that jacket on."

Sheppard just sat and looked at McKay for a minute before replying. "So, are we working today or what? If not, I've got several other things I could be doing."

"I guess that's one way to change the subject. Yes, we are working. Here." McKay pushed an object across the table toward Sheppard. It was almost square, about six inches on each side. It was flat with what appeared to be a screen in the middle and colored panels down one side. Sheppard picked it up and touched one of the panels. Instantly, what appeared to be ancient text appeared on the screen. He handed it to McKay.

"Here, McKay. I don't read Ancient." McKay took the device and looked at the blank screen.

"Well, I don't read invisible. Where do you see Ancient writing?"

Sheppard took the object back. He touched the colored panel again and the text reappeared. As he laid it on the table in front of McKay and let go, the text faded.

"Must be some kind of security thing. You have to hold it for it to stay on," said McKay, looking very interested.

Sheppard just sat in stunned silence for a moment. "Are you telling me I have to hold this thing while you translate?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. Unless you want to learn Ancient and translate it yourself. You know, that wouldn't be such a bad idea. You do, after all, have the strongest ancient gene and seem to able to activate some things that the rest of us can't get to work. It only makes sense that you be able to interpret what you're doing as you go. I could actually..."

"Rodney! Just translate the text. I don't want to sit and hold this thing all day." Sheppard had picked the device up and activated it, bringing the Ancient writing up on the screen once again.

"Oh...well, okay." McKay tried twisting his head around to see the text. "Look, I have trouble reading **English** upside down, much less Ancient. Could we get on the same side of the table?"

Sheppard put the device on the table. "Right after I get my coffee. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

Almost three hours later, they had finally finished scrolling through all the Ancient text. Sheppard laid the device down and walked around the room shaking his hand. "I think I've lost all feeling in my hand. Break time!"

McKay rubbed his tired eyes. "Sounds good to me. How about..."

Just then, Dr. Kavanagh walked through the door. Sheppard and McKay glanced at each other, suprise on both of their faces. McKay resisted the temptation to throw Kavanagh out on his ear. There was an obvious rise in the tension level of the room.

"Dr. Kavanagh, what a suprise. Can I help you with something?" McKay asked, trying his best to be civil.

Kavanagh smiled in a way that made McKay nervous. His eyes moved from McKay to Sheppard. "Actually, it Major Sheppard I need. Would you mind helping me with something? It'll just take a minute."

Sheppard cocked an eyebrow in shock. "You need me?"

Kavanagh walked over to the far end of the bench, away from the area where McKay was working. He set a small, round container that reminded Sheppard of a margarine container on the table. Sheppard walked over to stand by Kavanagh and McKay, trying to act disinterested, began pecking away on his computer.

Kavanagh opened the dish and removed a small, smooth stone. It was turquoise blue with tiny black and gold flecks. Except for the color, it reminded Sheppard of stones you found in a fast flowing stream.

"What is it?" asked Sheppard, picking it up and rolling it around in his hand.

"I'm not sure, actually. It came with some Ancient text, but it's taking me a while to translate it. Linguistics isn't my forte." McKay snorted from across the room, but Kavanagh ignored him. "Anyway, no one else with the gene has been able to get anything out of it. Word is that you have the strongest ancient gene, so I figured if anyone could get it to activate, it would be you. Can you tell if anything is happening?" Kavanagh was watching Sheppard so intently, it made McKay nervous. He had the feeling Kavanagh was up to something. He was being far too nice.

Kavanagh watched Sheppard for any reaction. He hadn't really lied. He didn't know what the stone did and he didn't have all the text translated. What he didn't tell them was that he had found the stone in a hidden lab. The part of the text he had translated indicated that several ancients had an ongoing disagreement with the leaders of the city. They were working on a way to incapacitate the leaders so that they could take over. The work had abruptly come to a stop when the city had been evacuated in order to flee from the wraith. Whatever happened, if anything happened, probably would not be pleasant. He couldn't think of anyone better to use as a guinea pig than the major. He was an arrogant, in-you-face soldier, and this would be a good test of his abilities to handle stress situations. Kavanagh almost laughed out loud.

Sheppard turned the smooth stone over in his hand. It felt...comfortable. "Hey, I think it's getting warm."

Kavanagh looked excited. "Good. Keep holding it and tell me if you notice anything else. Let's see how long it stays warm." He glanced down at his watch, noticing the time.

Sheppard was looking at his hand, the stone cradled gently inside his grasp. "Definitely warm. It's kind of...soothing."

"Wow," said McKay from across the room. "You've discovered an ancient hand warmer. We're all set for winter now...or at least Sheppard is. Great work, Kavanagh."

Kavanagh merely smiled. "We'll see, McKay."

Sheppard finally put the stone back on the table top. "It's gone. It's cooling off now. Have any idea what the point of that was?"

"Hand warmer." came the sarcastic remark from the other end of the table.

"No," said Kavanagh in an annoyed tone of voice. "But you'll be the first to know when I figure it out." _You'll be the first to know, all right. _"Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go make a note of these results. Thank you major." Kavanagh plopped the stone back into the container and hurried from the room.

Sheppard walked back to his stool and sat down. He sat in silence, watching McKay type for several minutes before McKay finally looked up in exasperation. "WHAT?"

Sheppard just smiled. "Get's 'um every time. Hey McKay, do you ever wonder about fate?"

McKay rolled his eyes. "You're not about to wax philosophical, are you? Baby-face air force pilots should not get philosophical. It just so...wrong."

Sheppard looked hurt. " I am not baby-faced and why can't pilots be philosophical?"

McKay stared at Sheppard for a moment "You should walk behind yourself down the hall one day."

Sheppard looked at McKay like he'd lost his mind. "Walk behind myself...Do you hear yourself?...That doesn't make any sense at all...even for you."

"Okay, stay with me a minute. Just think about the last time you walked down the hall and passed...say...two or more women walking together...no men...just the women. Did you hear giggling or whispering when they got past you?" Sheppard didn't answer, he just sat there with his mouth slightly open. "By the way, close your mouth or you'll start catching flies. Anyway, if you turn around real quick, you'll probably catch them looking back at you. Some of them like the going away view almost as much as the front view, if you get my drift."

"You're making this up," Sheppard said uncertainly.

"I most certainly am not. You listen next time...and then turn around really fast. You'll see. Of course, none of them look at you quite the way a certain someone does...now there's some real passion brewing there, not just eye candy or lust."

Sheppard could feel the red creeping up his neck and spreading across his face like an out-of-control wildfire. "McKay...you're crossing the line here!"

"Not that I haven't noticed you looking at her the same way," McKay continued.

"McKay, don't go there."

McKay looked at Sheppard and grinned. "Oh my God, you're actually blushing. Where is Radek when I need him. I TOLD him something was brewing there, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept saying..."

"McKay! We are dropping this NOW!" Sheppard roared.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine. Fine. Whatever. Personally, I think more power to you. If you and Elizabeth want to snuggle, what business is that of anyone else?"

"McKay, I swear if you don't shut up right now, I'm going to shoot you." Sheppard was so taken aback by the whole conversation, his head was beginning to throb. Surely McKay was making the stuff up about women watching him in the hall. He didn't mind partaking in a little innocent flirting ever so often, but the thought of half the women of Atlantis sneaking peeks at his butt gave him the creeps. Kind of undermined the whole authority figure thing he thought he had going too.

The thing that had really grabbed his attention was the part about Elizabeth. They had very carefully never voiced anything about their feelings. They sometimes exchanged looks or light touches, but had never expressed anything beyond friendship. They couldn't. He'd found himself caring for her more and more each day. So much so, in fact, that it scared him. He was pretty sure that she cared for him as well. Since they had never actually spoken or acted on their feelings, it shocked him to hear McKay act as if it were common knowledge. Part of him wanted to question McKay, but he was afraid to. He would practically have to admit to his feelings and he wasn't ready to do that yet.

"I'm starved. How about we break for lunch. I think it's meatloaf day and I actually like their meatloaf."

Sheppard's mind drifted back to the present. "Okay. I could eat."

As they stood, Sheppard swayed slightly and put his hand on the table for support. He felt McKay's hand on his other arm, helping to steady him. "You okay?"

Sheppard relaxed as the dizziness passed. "I'm good. Stood up too fast and gave myself a head rush."

McKay sighed. "I told you you should have eaten breakfast."

The two men headed out of the lab and down the hall. About halfway there, they met three women scientists walking towards them from the mess hall. McKay leaned over and whispered, "Remember, after they pass us listen, then turn around quickly."

"McKay," Sheppard whispered sternly. As they passed the three women, he nodded his head toward them and said, "Ladies." A few seconds later, he heard their antimated whispers coming from behind him. He looked over at Rodney, who was grinning and motioning behind them with his head.

"Now," he whispered.

Sheppard had not planned on turning around, but at the sound of McKay's voice, he spun around on his heels to see three faces watching him over their shoulders. All three women immediately jerked their heads around and began giggling like teenage girls as they hurried down the hall. Sheppard just stood in the middle of the hall watching them. "Holy crap," he whispered to himself.

McKay grabbed one arm and spun him back around. "Told you! This way...food...remember? Let's go eat." McKay proceeded to lead a somewhat confused major to the mess hall.

They got their trays and sat down at an empty table, eating in silence for several minutes. McKay finally paused and looked up at Sheppard. "What did you mean about fate?"

Sheppard had stopped eating and sat pushing his food around his plate with his fork. He looked troubled. "It's not important. Besides, pilots shouldn't be philosophical, remember?"

"Oh, get over yourself, major. You know I was kidding. I seriously want to know what you meant."

Sheppard continued to look glumly at his plate. "It really wasn't that big a deal. I just sometimes think about the fact that the only reason I'm here is because of that gene. Everyone else was handpicked to come because of their record or talent. I snagged a spot at the last minute with a luck of the draw gene. Maybe I'm not supposed to be here."

"Well," McKay began, as he really seemed to be thinking over what the major had just said. "I don't really believe in fate. I think we end up with a random assortment of actions, each with its own set of consequences. That usually leads to more actions and so on. Stuff just happens and we have to sort it out and deal with it. But if fate did play a part in all of this, you just happening to fly General O'Neal and just happening to sit in the chair with the right gene at just the right time...I'd say fate wanted you here. What do you..." McKay drifted off as he noticed Sheppard looking down with an expression of growing panic. McKay followed his line of sight down to his hand, which was shaking so hard his fork was clinking against the side of his tray. Sheppard dropped the fork and held out both hands in front of him and watched them shake violently.

"Major?" said McKay, not trying to hide the concern in his voice.

Sheppard just stared at him blankly. "Can't stop...shaking."

McKay jumped to his feet and grabbed Sheppard's arm. "Come on, we're going to the infirmary - NOW! And do NOT tell me you are okay. People who are okay don't shake like this."

Sheppard staggered to his feet with McKay's help. Once there, he swayed sideways with enough force that he almost sent them both toppling to the ground. People at the tables around them turned to see what the commotion was. A few wondered if they were drunk. As the made their way to the door, Sheppard grabbed the door frame.

"Wait." He snagged the garbage can and pulled it out into the hall moments before leaning over it and losing the food he had just eaten. Then he dry heaved a few extra minutes for good measure. When he finally stopped, McKay began dragging him down the hall. They only made it a few feet when the cramps hit Sheppard's legs. The most stabbing, excruciating muscle cramps he'd ever experienced seemed to hit almost every muscle in both legs at the same time. His legs folded up underneath him as he cried out in pain and crashed to the floor. He immediately pulled his legs up to his chest and began trying to knead the pain out, not realizing he was groaning out loud. He became aware of McKay's frightened face hovering over him.

"Major, what's wrong?"

"Cramps," was all he could get out as the wave of hot pain rolled up through the muscles in his groin and down across his shoulders at the same time. He curled up into the tightest ball he could form as he moaned and tried to catch his breath. "Kay...help...me...hurts..." He was cut off as the wave moved across his abdomen and up into his chest. He tried to curl up tighter against the pain, but he couldn't. His eyes squeezed tightly shut and his jaws clenched hard against the pain, he tried to ride it out as it ebbed and flowed and moved around his body. But there was no pattern to the way it moved, so he could not anticipate and adjust to its flow. There was no relief. As soon as the pain began to subside, it came crashing down in another area of his body, rolling through until he wanted to scream.

McKay watched helplessly as Sheppard writhed in obvious pain, curling up in the tightest fetal position he had ever seen. "Major, talk to me. What's happening?" Even as he asked the question, he knew Sheppard was in too much pain to talk. He wasn't even sure he could hear him at this point. He put his hand on Sheppard's shoulder to let him know he was not alone and was suprised to find Sheppard's whole body shaking uncontrollably, much like his hand had been shaking in the mess hall.

McKay hit his radio link. "We have a medical emergency in front of the mess hall. I need a medical team immediately! Carson, if you can hear me get down here NOW! Major Sheppard just collapsed and it's bad...it's real bad."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the great reviews. You have to know I love them all and that's what sends me back to the computer to write.

Emrys1 - I want you to know, for about thirty seconds, you scared the daylights out of me. At the beginning of your review, I thought I had seriously done something wrong and was in trouble. I think you have avenged the whole cliffhanger thing. LOL. You would have loved it. Audible sigh of relief as I realized you were joking (you were, right?)

Chapter 2

Beckett arrived with the medical team a few minutes later, although it seemed like an eternity to McKay. McKay was almost in full panic mode when he saw them round the corner and rush his way. Several people watched curiously from the door of the mess hall.

"Where have you been? What took so long? Help him, Carson!"

"Calm down Rodney and tell me what happened. I can't do anything for him until I know what's goin' on." Beckett's calm, soothing voice seemed to ease McKay a little. He took a deep breath.

"We were eating and his hands started shaking...like...really bad shaking. I was trying to bring him to you...but we had to stop for him to vomit...then we took a few steps down the hall...and he just...collapsed. He said something about cramps. Carson, he's in so much pain and I don't even know if hecan hearme talking to him any more. He was fine just a few minutes ago...and then...You've got to help him..."

"Aye, that's the plan Rodney." Beckett looked down at his patient, studying him as he knelt beside him. Sheppard was curled up on his side, but his arms and legs were in constant motion, shifting position against the pain that seemed to encompass him. His face was contorted with agony, his eyes squeezed shut. He suddenly arched his back off the floor and threw his arms out, moaning loudly as the shard of pain coursing through his back muscles caught him off guard. His eyes flickered open a moment and Beckett seized it, leaning over close to his face.

"Major, it's Dr. Beckett. We're here to help ya son. Can you tell me what's happenin'?"

Sheppard's eyes were so glazed that Beckett wasn't sure he'd get a response. Slowly, though, the eyes seemed to be trying to focus on him as the soldier continued to shift positions on the cold, hard floor. "Musssssscle...cra...amps...bad..." Sheppard suddenly clutched his stomach and curled back up as tightly as he could, gasping and moaning in pain.

"Where are the muscle cramps?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard let out a low moan as he tried to gain a foothold against the burning, tightening muscles. He was trying so hard to concentrate on what Beckett was saying, he kept letting the pain catch him by suprise. He so desperately wanted Beckett to help him, that he was doing everything he could to answer his questions. It was so hard to focus on controlling the pain and listen to someone talk at the same time.

"Ev...ry...wh..where..."

A pain shot through his chest with such force, it took his breath away. He opened his mouth, struggling to bring in air against the tightly clamped muscles in his torso. Beckett and McKay could tell he was struggling to breath.

"Oxygen!" yelled Beckett. A few seconds later, they had an oxygen mask clamped to his face and Beckett was listening for breath sounds with his stethoscope. Sheppard was not consciously aware of any of these actions. As the pain in his chest flowed out and he was once again able to breathe, sweet oxygen filled his lungs and he relaxed for a second. He felt himself fading from consciousness and he welcomed the coming darkness with open arms. But it wasn't to be. Another wave of cramps hit him in the arms and shoulders like a bolt of lightning, causing his almost limp body to tense up so fast it looked briefly like a convulsion. He groaned with the suddent impact of the intense wave of pain.

"No...o...o...o...o," they heard from under the mask.

Beckett looked up at his team. his brows knit with worry. "Let's get him back to the infirmary. I can't do much for him here."

They carefully lifted him onto the gurney, still curled up on his side. There was no way any of them were going to try to straighten his pain-wracked body. As they headed down the hall, Beckett put his hand on Sheppard's trembling shoulder, noticing that Sheppard's whole body was shaking. "Take it easy, lad. We'll have ya to the infirmary in just a minute and we'll figure out what's goin' on."

"Carson, is he going to be okay?" asked McKay, his eyes pleading for Beckett to say 'yes'.

Beckett turned to face Rodney. He knew Rodney was afraid for his friend and he really wanted to reassure him. He just wasn't sure that was possible right now. "Rodney, I'd love to be able to say yes to that, but it's too early to tell. I have no idea what's wrong at this point. I need you to come with us so I can ask you some questions."

McKay just nodded his head and ran one hand nervously through his hair. The pair began walking quickly down the hall, trying to catch up to the medical team and the shaking, folded figure on the gurney.

Elizabeth Weir reached the door to the infirmary just as they wheeled Sheppard into the trauma area to begin evaluating his condition. She joined McKay in the waiting area, where they watched the activity on the other end of the room.

"Rodney, I heard you call for the medical team. What happened? How is John?"

McKay looked into the worried face of the expedition leader, certain that he didn't look much better than she did. He replayed the events of the last few minutes for her, including what Carson had told him in the hallway.

Beckett and his staff had their hands full, trying to take the vital signs of Sheppard as he squirmed around on the exam table they had moved him to, trying desperately to work through the pain. Even though his eyes were closed tightly, Beckett knew he was not unconscious. He rather wished he were. It was hard to watch the ranking military officer, who had also become something of a friend, in so much pain that he absolutely could not lay still a minute. Sheppard had straightened out somewhat in an apparent attempt to alleviate pain in his back and neck. He pushed his head back into the matress, his jaw clenched tightly as he once again struggled to get his breath. Just when Beckett thought he was going to have to intervene somehow, Sheppard shifted positions and sucked in a lungfull of air. Beckett let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Suddenly, Sheppard cried out and lurched onto his right side, almost throwing himself off the table. Beckett caught him just as he began to slide off, holding onto Sheppard with his left hand and the table with his right. A nurse stepped up to help him edge the major back onto the table. Still hanging off the side, Sheppard began to gag and then to vomit, clutching his stomach in agony. Since he had just emptied his stomach a short while ago, there was very little to bring up and he mostly just had a running case of the dry heaves. They finally ended with a strangled groan and Beckett was able to push his shaking form back onto the bed.

"Let's get an IV going and I want blood drawn. Put a rush on the bloodwork. We need to know what we're dealin' with and we need it an hour ago." Expecting the bloodwork request, a nurse already had the tubes ready.

"Doctor, how are we going to draw blood with him...curled up like that?"

"Just wait a minute and be ready." They watched Sheppard and a couple of minutes later, he rolled over onto his back and straightened his arms somewhat. Beckett took a firm hold on his wrist and pulled his arm straight. "Do it now and do it quick." As she drew the blood, he noticed a small stream of blood beginning to run down Sheppard's arm from his hand. Beckett followed the stream up to its source and sighed deeply at what he saw. Sheppard had his fist clenched so tightly, that his fingernails were cutting into the palms of his hands and drawing their own blood. A quick glance at the other hand revealed the same thing. As Sheppard shifted positions, a small trail of blood smeared across the white sheets. Beckett barely managed to get a band-aid on the site where they had taken blood before Sheppard pulled the arm back and rolled over on his left side and drew his legs up to his chest, his hands digging at the muscles in his legs. His whole body shuddered violently as he moaned again, oblivious to everything but the pain that coarsed through his body.

Beckett walked quickly over to where McKay and Weir stood, looking somewhat shell-shocked. They had undoubtedly heard Sheppard cry out in pain, and their attention was riveted to the exam table where he lay thrashing around as the medical staff tried to care for him.

"Rodney?" Beckett said. Rodney just continued to watch the major, his face drained of color. "Rodney!" he said, somewhat more forcefully.

McKay turned and looked at him. "What? Carson..."

"I still don't know, Rodney. I think it must be some sort of toxin...or poison. Do you know what he's had to eat or drink today?"

Giving McKay specific questions to answer that could be important seemed to help him focus. "Uhhhh, let's see...I know he said he didn't have time for breakfast...He drank coffee in my lab. Then we went to the cafeteria. We both had the meatloaf and mashed potatoes...those nasty dehydrated things. But we got the same thing and I ate more than he did and I'm not sick, so that couldn't be it..." He trailed off as if trying to think.

"What about the coffee in the lab?"

"No...I had a lot at breakfast, so I didn't drink any. The major had ...three or four cups." He looked up suddenly. "He was the only one that drank any. Do you thing someone tried to poison him?...Oh my God, that was my lab...that means they were probably trying to poison me. Someone's trying to kill me!"

Weir stepped in. "Calm down, Rodney. We don't know that. I'll send someone to get the coffee pot and grounds so we can test them. Is there anything else you can think of?"

Rodney ran his hand nervously across his forehead. "I don't know if it's important...He said he ran further this morning that he usually does. That almost certainly means he was running in the unoccupied and probably unexplored parts of Atlantis. He's told me before he likes to run there because no one's there. Some kind of a brooding solitude thing. Maybe he came into contact with something there. Don't forget the virus lab we found. I can just see him touching stuff to watch it light up. For someone who's relatively intelligent, he sometimes doesn't show a lot of common sense."

He looked up to see both Weir and Beckett looking at him. "What?" They looked at each other and shook their heads silently. McKay thought he heard Elizabeth mumble something about the pot calling the kettle black.

"Okay," said Beckett. "Elizabeth, get me those coffee samples as soon as you can. I'm havin' his bloodwork rushed so maybe we can see if he's got something in his system. I can compare that to anything we find in the coffee pot. Rodney, why don't you check with the night guards and see if anyone saw Major Sheppard running this morning. If the coffee angle doesn't work out, we may need to see if we can retrace his steps. Is there anything else?"

"Not really. We were working on an ancient device, but it just displayed some text. He made some kind of a rock get warm for Kavanagh. That's about it."

Beckett shook his head. "I don't think the ancient device is it. I'm leaning toward something he ingested, but there's no way to tell for sure. We'll just have to keep investigating leads until we figure this out."

Sheppard moaned loudly and changed positions rather forcefully again. All three looked toward the bed. "Carson, can't you give him something for the pain?" McKay asked softly.

"Ya know I can't until I know what we're dealin' with. It could kill him. He'll just have to ride it out a while until we get a handle on what's causin' this. I have to admit, I've never seen anythin' even remotely like this. I wish I could do more."

McKay and Weir left the infirmary, each with a job to do that would hopefully lead to information that could help Sheppard. Beckett went back to his patient. He stood looking for a minute, feeling very helpless, before taking charge and ordering his team to get Sheppard undressed and start running every test he could think of that might possible lead to an answer. He hoped they found it fast. He wasn't sure how long anyone could hold up under the kind of pain Sheppard was obviously in.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The review hog (that would be me) would like to massively thank all the reviewers for feeding my fire in such a nice way. You guys really do rule in my book. Makes my heart want to flutter and my fingers want to type. I'm trying hard to update quickly, but it's hard to squeeze in time right now. It's the middle of the night and I can't focus on the clock any more. But I'm afraid of Emrys1 and the dark side and the new laws and all the reviewers offering to join the enforcement branch, so here you go (LOL - of course you know that I secretly love it). By the way, don't expect this to lighten up soon. I think my dark side might show in this one. Much to come.

Chapter 3

Elizabeth returned to the infirmary about an hour later. She found that John had been moved to one of the beds and Carson was standing beside him, making notes on his chart. A nurse was at the side of the bed, trying in vain to attach the covers to the bed in such as way that the major's constant thrashing would not upend them. She finally stood up and shrugged in surrender, watching the man undo everything she had just accomplished. "Not happening," she muttered as she walked across the room.

As Elizabeth approached, she got her first real look at John since the whole thing began. The constant motion was what really caught her attention. He would shift positions every few seconds. Even when he held a position for several seconds, his arms, hands, or legs were constantly twitching or jerking nervously. His whole body seemed to shudder, shaking the bed with a constant rattling noise. Sweat covered his face, matted his hair, and soaked through the hospital gown. Ever so often, he would open his eyes for a few moments and they would dart around wildly, almost as if he were searching for someone to help him. Then they would squint shut again, trying to navigate the pain that wound through him like a hot fire poker. An IV line ran to his right hand, nasal cannula across his face, and a heart monitor stood beeping a little too quickly beside his bed.

Elizabeth hugged herself tightly across the chest as she stood by Carson Beckett. "How is he?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Beckett sighed sadly. "Not good. His blood pressure and heart rate are too high, but that's no suprise. The pain is relentless. I haven't seen him get a break since he got here an hour ago. From what I can tell, it's like having the worst muscle cramp you've ever had in several muscles at once. As soon as they let up in one place, they start somewhere else. That's why he's moving around so much. There's this natural instinct to move the muscle and work the cramp out. Kind of hard to do when it hits you in that many places at once. They are so intense, that some of the ones in his chest make it hard to breathe, so we've got him on oxygen. I'm a little worried about dehydration. He obviously can't keep anything down right now and he's sweating faster than we can keep up with. I've got one IV going, but I think we may have to add another if this keeps up. We'll need to change his sheets and gown soon, and I'm not sure how that's going to work. His temperature is starting to creep up - probably from all the activity." He turned to make eye contact with her. "Did you get the coffee to the lab?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, there was still a little coffee in the bottom of the pot. We took that, John's cup, and the coffee grounds all to the lab." Sheppard groaned as he rolled back over to his side and clutched his abdomen, drawing the attention of his two friends. Elizabeth chewed lightly on the inside of her lower lip, willing the tears not to come. This wasn't the time or the place. She wanted so much to crawl onto the bed and hold him and, somehow, make the pain go away. She noticed that the palms of both hands were bandaged. "Carson, what happened to his hands?"

Beckett looked down at his own hand, absently bringing it up and clenching it into a fist. "He had his hands clenched into a fist so tightly that he drove his fingernails down into the skin and cut up his hands. I don't think he even realizes yet. The pain just doesn't compare to what he's already feelin'."

Elizabeth closed her eyes a second, feeling like the room was beginning to spin. Finally, her head cleared and she opened her eyes. She glanced at Carson, only to find him watching her. "Can I stay with him for a while?"

Beckett looked at Sheppard, struggling against the pain and covers that were now hopelessly wrapped around him. "Aye, you can stay for a while. I'm not sure if he's aware of us or not, but if there's any chance, he should know he's not alone. I was planning on having someone stay close anyway, in case he has trouble breathing again. I'm a little worried about that. I'd hate to have to ventilate him in his present condition."

Elizabeth shivered. "Do you think...do you think it'll get that bad?"

"No way of knowin'. I'm goin' to see if I can hurry his bloodwork results any. I'll check back with ya." Beckett walked across the infirmary, his footsteps sounding particularly heavy.

Elizabeth stood at the foot of the bed, watching one of the strongest men she'd ever met shake violently as he twisted and turned and rolled with the relentless torment. She walked over to his side and gently wiped her hand across his forehead, pushing the wet hair back off his face. His eyes fluttered open a little, all shiney and glassy with pain.

"Lizzzzz...bth..." was all he could manage, but the fact that he knew she was there caused a sense of relief to wash over her. She desperately wanted him to know that she was there for him to lean on.

"It's okay, John. Carson's working on it. He thinks you've come into contact with some sort of poison or toxin. As soon as he knows what it is, he'll be able to help you. Just hang in there a little longer."

Sheppard's eyes began closing as he shifted with the pain and winced, tightly shutting his eyes again. "N...not...goin...an...where...Ohhhhhhh...hurts..." He suddenly grabbed the bedrails that were keeping him from rolling onto the floor and gripped them until his knuckles were white and she was sure he would snap them in half. He was shaking so hard that the bedrails made an awful clattering sound, as if something metal was scooting around the floor in an earthquake measuring about a 9 on the Richter scale.

Beckett came shooting out of his office like a shot of a cannon. He slid to a stop at the foot of Sheppard's bed. "What the...?" He watched Sheppard shake the life out of the bedrails for a few more seconds before rolling onto his back. stiffening his legs,and arching his back up off the bed. Beckett had seen this move before, and as always, Sheppard's breathing stopped for what seemed like far too long before he relaxed back onto the bed and rolled to his other side.

Elizabeth looked up at Beckett, fear in both her eyes and her voice. "Does he always do that...stop breathing like that?"

Beckett nodded. "Every time he goes up on his back like that. That's why I want someone watching him. In case he doesn't come back down soon enough."

Elizabeth noticed McKay standing a few feet behind Beckett. "Rodney, how long have you been there?"

Beckett turned to look at McKay, the scientist's face somewhat pale. "Long...enough." He walked up to stand by Beckett, never taking his eyes off Sheppard. "He's...he's not doing so good, is he?" They all stood watching the pale, sweaty figure struggling with the sheets again. John moaned softly and then suddenly sat straight up, his eyes opening to slits. Caught by suprise, it took the trio around the bed a few seconds to react.

Elizabeth stood up and Beckett moved to the other side of the bed. Each put a hand on the major's shoulder as he sat there in a daze, unaware of what just happened. "Wwwwww...wat...water..."

Elizabeth had a straw in a cup of water to his lips in an instant. He just sat there, so Elizabeth finally said, "Drink, John. It's water." He drew in some of the water and closed his eyes as if in relief. When he stopped and Elizabeth withdrew the cup, he began falling back to the bed. Carson, his hand still on the back of his shoulder, took his weight and eased him down to the bed. He seemed peaceful for a moment and they all silently hoped he would be able to get some sleep. Then his eyes popped open and he cried out in pain as he quickly drew his legs up to his chest and rolled back over to his side, once again pushing against the muscles in his legs. After a few minutes, his arms shifted from his legs to his abdomen. He gasped, his breath catching in his throat before he vomited the water he had just taken in, adding to the sweat that already drenched his hospital gown and sheets.

Beckett stood there feeling more helpless that he'd ever felt in his life, and it was a feeling he wasn't liking very much. "We need to get him cleaned up. Why don't you two go get a cup of coffee or somethin' and check back with me later."

An hour later, Weir and McKay returned to the infirmary to find Beckett sitting in his office. McKay was a little perturbed that the good doctor wasn't sitting at Sheppard's bedside, "Carson, what are you doing in here? Is the major okay? Why aren't you with him?"

Beckett just held up his hands in a defensive motion. "He's not alone, Rodney. I've got someone with him. I've been going over some test results. There's some kind of a strange compound in his blood...and there's a whole lot of it. I've never seen anythin' like this before. It's bound to be the source of the major's problems...but I don't know what to do about it."

He handed McKay the paper he was looking at. McKay whistled. "Man, this IS weird. Any ideas?"

Beckett took the paper back from McKay. "Not yet. There is a small section that is somewhat like acetylcholine, a neurotransmitter. But there's all this other stuff around it and I don't know what any of that does. I think I'm goin' to send this to the chemistry lab and see if they have any ideas."

"Did you find that in the coffee?" Weir asked.

"No. The coffee, the cup, and grounds were all clean. No traces of this stuff, whatever it is. Rodney, did you have any luck figuring out where the major went this morning?"

"Yes and no," said McKay. "I talked to several people doing guard duty early this morning. He left his quarters about four a.m. this morning. Who runs at that hour? Who's even awake at that hour? Remind me to speak to him about actually sleeping at night when this is all over. Idiot. Oh, anyway, I know where he went from his quarters to the end of the inhabited part of the city. Once he left that, it'll be just a guess. But at least we know what general part of the city he was in."

Weir took over from there. "Okay, Rodney, you'll coordinate with me and we'll get some teams out there looking. Maybe they can figure out where he went and search for anything that might be causing this."

The room was silent for a few moments. "Has there been any change?" asked Weir.

Beckett just shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. We managed to get him clean and dry. That lasted about fifteen minutes, but I guess it's better than nothin'. Bad thing is, I still can't give him anythin' for the pain. Whatever it is appears to cause severe muscle spasms and cramps. I'm a little worried about involvement of the diaphragm and the heart, since they are both muscle. So far, he's just had some temporarily interrupted breathing and a bit of a fast heartbeat. I'm worried about possibly expanding the effects of this compound and making the situation worse."

"Carson, you can't just leave him like that," said Rodney.

"Aye, I know. We'll think of somethin' Rodney. Let me see what the chemists say before we jump in so far we can't get back out."

Rodney suddenly jumped to his feet. "Come on Elizabeth. We've got steps to retrace and Carson has a chemist to see. The sooner we get an answer, the sooner Carson can help him."

Wier shook herself out of the stupor she felt she'd fallen into. Rodney was right. They needed to move quickly. The pair walked out of Beckett's office and neither of them could help but to turn and look toward Sheppard's bed. Even from this distance, they could see that he was still shaking and squirming under the covers. A nurse sat by the bed, occasionally leaning over and patting his arm and talking to him, trying to let him know that someone was there. They briefly looked at one another, determination in their face, as they set off to the control room.

Beckett stood in his office doorway, watching Sheppard from across the room. "Bloody hell," he murmured to himself as he gripped the reports on Sheppard's bloodwork and headed for Dr. Kavanagh's office.

TBC

Yeah, I know.I can't help myself. I'll try to hurry.


	4. Chapter 4

I should probably point out that I have little or no knowlege about most things medical. I try to stay vague enough I don't make really big mistakes or I try to do a little background research, but if I goof or present something in an unrealistic way, I apologize.

Thanks again for all the reviews. Love 'em to death. Keep on talking to me.

Chapter 4

Kavanagh sat staring blankly at the turquoise rock. He'd heard from some of the other scientists that Sheppard had gotten sick at lunch and been whisked off to the infirmary, but they didn't know anything else. He was dying to run down there and see what was going on, but there was no way to do that without raising suspicions. He had been far to vocal in certain circles about his feelings for a certain major. He couldn't suddenly act like he cared now. But still...he needed the information for his research. He had to find a way...

"Dr. Kavanagh?" Beckett poked his head in Kavanagh's office. "Could I have a word with ya?"

Kavanagh slid the stone into the open top drawer of his desk and slowly closed the drawer as he stood up. "Dr. Beckett, what a suprise. By all means, come in." Kavanagh motioned Beckett in and to a chair in the cramped corner on the other side of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

Beckett sat in the chair, obviously uncomfortable. "I...uh...need yer help. You may have heard that Major Sheppard is ill."

"Yes, Dr. Sampson was just telling me the major got sick at lunch today. We were all wondering how he is?" Kavanagh smiled, reminding Beckett of a weasil. He had to resist the urge to shudder with disgust. Every time he looked at Kavanagh, he was reminded of the time Jumper One was stuck in the gate and Kavanagh wanted to activate the shield to be sure he saved himself. Creepy, creepy little man.

"Well, the truth is that he's not doin' very well. He's been exposed to some sort of...toxin or poison, we think. I thought you might be able to help."

Kavanagh's stomach clenched with fear. Did they know? How could they know? He had to remain calm. He could get rid of the stone and they would never be able to prove anything. He evened his breathing and tried his best to appear calm. "And how is that, Doctor?"

Beckett placed a sheet of paper on his desk. "This is the results of Major Sheppard's bloodwork. You'll notice the presence of an odd compound," he pointed to the paper. "I need a chemist to help me make some sense of it and try to find a way to treat it or neutralize it." Beckett looked at Kavanagh hopefully, half expecting him to say no.

Kavanagh almost jumped for joy at the request. He couldn't believe his luck. He hadn't had any idea what the stone would do to Sheppard. Apparently, when it got warm, it must have passed on this chemical that was now in his blood. and causing him to be sick. Now he would have a chance to study both the chemical and the effects under the guise of helping Major Sheppard. Talk about having a run of good luck. He had to put a lid on his excitement and seem calm and concerned. That was not going to be easy.

"Of course I'd be happy to help. Perhaps you could fill me in on Major Sheppard's symptoms. It would also help if I had a sample of his blood so that I might run some tests on the compound myself."

Beckett smiled, the relief showing on his face. "Thank you. I'll fill you in about the major and then I'll get a blood sample for ya. I appreciate your help."

"No problem, Dr. Beckett. Anything for the major."

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John Sheppard knew nothing but pain. He hadn't for several hours, although he had no idea how long it had been. Time was meaningless. He found out long ago that he had to focus on the pain to have any hope of bearing it. If he focused on it, he could sometimes feel a slight twitching before the agonizing wave of intense muscle spasms began. Knowing where the rolling pain would come from somehow made it easier to ride. He shifted positions again. Sometimes there was enough time between the peak of one wave of pain and the next to adjust his postition and prepare. And then again, sometimes there was no warning and the agony caught him off guard. Those were the times he thought he might scream. Maybe he was screaming now, he really didn't know. He really didn't care. Shifting again. Pain rolling through his abdomen and down into the groin. He desperately clutched at his midsection, willing the pain to subside. It did, only to be replaced by a stabbling pain in his lower back. He leaned back against the pain and felt it spreading forward into his chest. He desperately tried to suck in air, but just couldn't seem to pull any into his lungs. He wondered briefly if he was dying and found the idea strangely comforting - at least the pain would stop.

The pain shifted from his back and chest to his arms and shoulders and he found he could breathe again. Missed opportunity. He remembered brief flashes of McKay, Beckett, and Weir. He was sometimes vaguely aware of voices, touches, movement...but usually had no conscious recognition of the events around him. He was totally isolated...alone in the dark with the endless pain that would not let him rest. He was exhausted, but he knew there would be no sleep. He had to keep moving...rolling and shifting with the pain. Maybe the next time the pain clutched his chest in a vise that would not let him breathe, it would last longer...at least long enough to pass out.

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McKay and Weir walked into the infirmary, immediately looking toward Sheppard's bed. As expected, Beckett was there checking IV lines and vitals. Sheppard was still twisting and shaking under the covers, in constant motion. The two looked at one another, each thinking the same thing. They had been sure that exhaustion would have kicked in and Sheppard would be sleeping. They were disappointed to find him still in agony. Beckett saw them standing in the door and motioned them over.

"I don't suppose..." Weir began.

Beckett shook his head. "He's about the same, except I think he's gettin' weaker. We had to start a second IV to fight the dehydration. I don't mind tellin' ya that keepin' them from rippin' out or gettin' tangled with him thrashin' around like that has been quite a battle."

"Did you talk to Kavanagh?" asked McKay, grimacing at the thought of his friend's life being in the arrogant, self-centered sciientist's hands.

"Aye. He's working on it now. I checked with him just a few minutes ago, but he doesn't really have anythin' yet. He informed me that his tests can't be rushed."

"Yeah, whatever," muttered McKay. Somehow he couldn't see Kavanagh inconveniencing himself to save the major some pain. Useless twit. He really wished he'd taken the time to get a chemistry degree along the way.

"What about you two? Did you find where Major Sheppard went running this morning? "

"Well," sighed Weir. "The teams found where they think he went. All the rooms and labs in that area were searched, but they didn't find anything that looked hopeful. Rodney even went down there and had a look. There just wasn't anything that looked like it could be the answer."

"Could it be something he came into contact with yesterday or the day before? Would it have to have been today?" asked McKay.

Beckett thought for a second. "I suppose it could have been before today. Some toxins take a while to accumulate in the system. It looks like we should start bactracking. We need to sit down and trace his movements yesterday - everything he ate, drank, or came into contact with."

Sheppard shifted positions a little more violently, rattling the bed and drawing their attention. Beckett was at his side in two steps. Sheppard groaned softly and his eyelids fluttered as if trying to open. Beckett leaned over close and put his hand on the major's shoulder. He noted the soldier's body was still shaking and trembling. "Major, can you hear me?" Sheppard just moaned and kicked his legs under the covers, quickly drawing them back up to his chest.

"Waterrrrrrr," he mumbled almost incoherently as he thrashed around.

The nurse who had been sitting with him handed Beckett a cup of ice chips. "Afraid to give you any water, major. You can't seem to keep it down. Try this." He slipped a small ice chip into Sheppard's slightly open mouth. Sheppard made a low sound that sounded more like satisfaction than pain. He moved his legs under the blanket, almost as if he was running in place laying in the bed. Then he kicked his legs out sharply, drew them back up, and rolled over on his other side, his back to Beckett.

"Carson, please do something. How much longer can this last?" whispered McKay.

"Aye, I've been thinkin' about that. I..." Beckett hesitated. "I'm thinkin' about trying a very low dosage of muscle relaxer to see if we can lower the intensity of the cramps. I want to start out low, though...in case we have some kind of negative effect. I asked Nick to come in early tonight. I'd rather have two of us here in case somethin' happens."

McKay and Weir both looked relieved. "Oh thank God! When?" asked McKay.

Almost as if on cue, Dr. Nick Strauhan strolled into the infirmary. Spotting Beckett and the others, he joined them quickly. He stood for a moment, watching Sheppard roll around in the bed, his face contorted with pain and wet with sweat. Sheppard grunted as he flopped over to his back and arched up against the pain. Beckett watched the major closely until he dropped back to the bed and began breathing again.

"Carson...?" Nick looked questioninly at Beckett.

"I'll explain...my office." The four of them headed for Beckett's office.

Beckett brought Nick up to speed on what had happened that day and his decision to give Major Sheppard a mild muscle relaxer. Beckett was obviously not comfortable giving meds when he didn't understand the toxin that was plaguing the major, but he felt he had to do something. Even if Sheppard recovered physically, he knew there could be psychological ramifications from being isolated in extreme pain for an extended period of time.

Nick and Carson worked together with two nurses to hook Sheppard up to monitors - heart, blood pressure, pulse. It took all of them to hold Sheppard still while pulling his gown down and connecting the leads. Elizabeth found she couldn't watch him struggle against the medical team trying so desperately to help him. He was isolated in his own world of pain and the realization made her blood run cold in her veins. She hugged herself against the chill as she looked away. The problem was that she could still hear the rustle of covers as he struggled and the strangled groans of pain.

"Okay, I think we're ready," stated Beckett unsurely. Suddenly, the room seemed crowded with all the people standing around Sheppard's bed, watching his agony and waiting on a possible solution. "Let's do this." Beckett glanced beside the bed to make sure the crash cart was nearby - just in case.

Nick picked up the syringe that lay prepared on a tray near the bed. He looked at Beckett, who nodded to him, then injected the contents into Sheppard's IV port. Replacing the empty syringe, he stood back and waited silently with the others. They all watched, willing Sheppard's anguished movements to slow enough that he might get some relief. It took several minutes, but finally the movements did begin to slow and the shaking seemed to decrease in intensity. They all began to relax and even dared a few small smiles.

McKay slapped Beckett on the shoulder. "Okay, maybe I was wrongwith all those voodoo magic cracks. I'm just glad...Carson?" Beckett's smile was slowly fading as he stepped up to the heart monitor for a closer look. Nick was already focused in on it.

The movement caught the attention of the others and the lightening mood of the room suddenly darkened again as they fell silent. Watching the heart monitor, they realized that the rate was too fast and was continuing to increase.

"Tachycardia," stated Nick.

Beckett nodded and pointed to the screen. "Bloody hell, we've got atrial fibrillation. I knew this was a bad idea."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

First, I need to thank rogue1503 for the use of Nick. She let me borrow him for this story cause I really, really like him. You may see him pop up a lot more. I meant to do this last chapter, but had a brain outage and forgot.

As usual, thank you for all the encouraging reviews. I'm so very, very sorry it took longer to update this time. It was so not my fault. Long story made short, my hubby had other plans for me this weekend and seriously cramped my writing time. I should make good progress next week though - he'll be out of town.

Emrys1 - don't worry - I love your reviews. I think they may be more entertaining than the story. I catch myself watching for them to see what you'll say next, so don't give up and quit. I need them!

A little hint for all of you wanting to thrash Kavanagh - he'll get his eventually. I promise.

Drakcir - Don't worry. Elizabeth and Rodney don't understand either, so Carson is about to explain.

Chapter 5

Nick and Carson stood watching the heart monitor, concern on their faces. "Seems to be increasing," commented Nick.

Carson nodded in agreement. "We don't need to let this go on very long, not in his condition."

"Cardioversion?" asked Nick.

Carson nodded again. "Let's go with electrical - I'm afraid to try any more medication after this fiasco. There's no bloody way this should have happened in response to a mild muscle relaxer. Whatever this stuff is has really got him messed up."

"Agreed." Nick began moving the defibrillator closer to the bed. Elizabeth and Rodney looked at each other in fear and then back toward the doctors, now gettting ready for something.

"Carson?" Elizabeth looked questioningly at Beckett. "What's going on?"

Beckett turned to the pair and noted the concern in their faces. "He's got a rapid heartbeat, tachycardia. It's probably being caused by the atrial fibrillation. The top chambers of the heart aren't really contracting any more...they're just sort of quivering. The blood won't circulate properly and that can cause problems, especially in someone who already has other problems like the major. We're going to give his heart a mild electrical shock in hopes of resetting his pacemaker and getting the atria back on track." He gave a small, reassuring smile. "It's not as dramatic as when we are trying to restart the heart, like after the bug incident."

McKay and Weir seemed relieved. Beckett turned back to the major to find that Nick was ready with the defibrillator paddles. Beckett and a nurse folded the blanket down past Sheppard's waist and then carefully pulled the hospital gown down until his chest was exposed. Beckett took the paddles and placed them on Sheppard's chest in a postition like when he had restarted the man's heart on the jumper, not so long ago. Weir shivered, remembering the incident. Nick nodded to Beckett and he discharged the current. Sheppard barely flinched, instead of arching his back off the bed like he had in the jumper. The two doctors looked hopefully at the monitor. The sound had definitely changed and seemed to be slower.

"It worked," said Nick, smiling at Beckett as he took the paddles back.

"Aye. Hopefully that will slow the heart rate as well. We better keep a close eye on him. It could happen again."

"Correction. I'll keep an eye on him. It's time for you to go get some rest. I'm on duty now."

Beckett shook his head. "I can't leave him now. He could develop more problems and I need to be here to deal with them. I'll just..."

"Dr. Beckett, I can handle it. I promise I will keep a close eye on him. If you don't get some rest, you won't be much use if he needs you later. I promise I'll call you if we have any problems."

Carson looked at Nick. He knew he was a good doctor and perfectly capable of handling anything that came up. Carson had to admit that there wasn't any real reason for him to stay other than he wanted to. And Nick was right. They had no idea what would happen tomorrow and he needed to be rested and ready to go. "All right, you win. Let's get him settled and I'll go get some rest."

They gently replaced Sheppard's gown and blankets, and checked all the monitors and IV lines. Nick then began pointing out how late it was and that everyone should get some rest. Weir stood beside Sheppard's bed a few minutes, noting how still he was compared to earlier. He was still visible shaking and occasionally moved his position, but it was not the constant, jerking motions of earlier. She desperately hoped that meant he was getting some sleep. She knew he was exhausted. She gently caressed the side of his face with her hand. "Feel better," she said softly. And she turned and left.

Nick ushered Beckett and Weir out the infirmary door and returned to find McKay had pulled up a chair beside Sheppard's bed. He had watched the developing friendship over the last few months, as had everyone on Atlantis. He wasn't sure who was more suprised at the odd development, McKay and Sheppard or those around them. They argued and sniped at one another constantly...and when push came to shove, each was always there for the other. They had each spent many sleepless nights camped out in a chair beside the other's bed. That in mind, he was not suprised to see McKay where he was.

"He'll be okay. I'll watch him," said Nick.

"I know," said McKay. He watched Sheppard silently for a minute. "I want to be in my lab doing something to help him. There's usually something I can do to at least pretend I'm helping. Not this time...nothing. I just feel so...useless right now. If I can't do something to help the pain...I can at least be here for him. If he wakes up, someone should be here...he might need something. Even if he doesn't...he needs to see someone. He needs to see someone who really cares, not just a warm body watching for trouble. I'm staying, so don't even try to throw me out."

Nick smiled and nodded. "Wouldn't think of it. I'll check with you every few minutes. Let me know if you need me."

"Nick?" McKay looked at the doctor. "Do you think he's getting some rest? He's not moving nearly as much."

"I hope so. I'm not sure if he's actually asleep, but I think the pain level has gone way down. He's getting some rest on some level. We'll check his blood levels of the compound tomorrow. We're hoping they'll start to drop off."

McKay nodded and looked back at Sheppard, praying Nick was right.

Early the next morning, Elizabeth was on her way to the infirmary to check on Major Sheppard. She hadn't so much slept last night as much as she had dozed in jerks and spurts. As she turned the last corner, she almost collided with Carson Beckett. They faltered and dodged and managed to avoid a head on.

"Sorry, lass, I guess my mind was somewhere else."

"It's okay Carson. I wasn't exactly paying attention either. Mind if I walk with you?"

"No, I'd be happy to have the company." They walked in silence the last few steps to the infirmary, each hoping this would be a better day for the major. They both looked immediately towards Sheppard's bed, finding Nick and Rodney quietly talking as they stood by the foot of the bed. They quickly joined them, their heart dropping as they noticed the frantic, constant motion was back full force. Sheppard squirmed endlessly in the bed, once again drenched in sweat and moaning in pain.

"How's the major?" Beckett lost no time questioning Nick.

Nick handed Dr. Beckett the chart he had been updating. "He stayed pretty quiet for about two and a half hours before the restlessness began to pick back up. He's been flailing around ever since. We had to convert the AF twice more after you left, but it took both times. Other than that, he's been pretty much like he was when I got here last night. I was just..."

They all turned as someone walked quickly into the infirmary. Dr. Kavanagh walked over to the group. McKay was suprised to see he looked as if he'd been up all night. He didn't think Kavanagh was the type to lose sleep because someone else was suffering.

"Dr. Beckett, you're just who I was looking for. I've completed my tests on the compound. You were right in that there seems to be a core that acts as a sort of neurotransmitter. I think it's sort of a super neurotranmitter, causing the muscles to fire extremely forcefully and irradically. That would explain what you described as..."

"Ohhhhhhhh" Sheppard groaned loudly as he flipped over on his side, clutching his abdomen and gasping for breath. Kavanagh looked down at Sheppard, noticing him for the first time. He seemed genuinely shocked at the major's appearance. He continued to watch Sheppard, mesmerized by the constant motion as the major continued to squirm into different positions, one right after the other.

Beckett had noticed him watching Sheppard with concern. "He's in constant agony. The muscle spasms and cramps are relentless, not letting him have any rest. You can see why we wanted to get him some relief."

Kavanagh nodded. "Uh, as I was saying, this would explain the problems he's having. The bad news is that all those side chains and things around the core seem to act as a buffer...almost like a shield. They keep other chemicals from affected the core. I was going to suggest that you not try giving him any medication until this is out of his system. I think the extra chains around the core will interact with other meds to protect the core, and that could cause some very harmful side effects."

Beckett and Nick looked at each other and nodded. "I think we can confirm that," said Nick. "We tried a small dose of a weak muscle relaxer last night and he ended up with atrial fibrillation."

Kavanagh nodded. "I'm still studying it, so I'll let you know if I find anything different. There are some parts of the compound that I think may be new elements. I can't identify them as yet. It's all so very exciting!" Kavanagh smiled broadly. He realized after a few seconds that no one else in the room was smiling or cared about how important that discovery could be. All these people cared about was Major Sheppard. His significance paled in comparison to the possible discovery of new elements, but none of these people could see that. He looked back down at Sheppard. "I'm sure he'll be fine once the compound is out of his system." With that, he turned and left before he said anything to get himself into trouble.

McKay snorted. "Yeah, cause you know it's just that simple," he said sarcastically.

Sheppard continued his agonizing dance throughout the day. By evening, McKay was starting to doze off in the chair periodically. Elizabeth came by when her duties as expedition leader had been fulfilled for the day. She watched McKay's head drift down until his chin touched his chest. She would probably never understand the bizarre friendship between these two, but it had produced some good results. Of course, there was the occasional disaster as well. She smiled, thinking about the easy banter that normally flew between the two. When they were fully into it, they tended to drive everyone around them crazy. She couldn't imagine trying to run this expedition or Atlantis without either one of them. Beckett walked up, interrupting her thoughts and causing Rodney to stir, as well.

"Rodney, I want you out of here and gettin' some rest tonight. You're exhausted."

McKay rubbed his face. "I'm good...I...I mean...I'm okay."

Beckett gave a small smile. "I have a little good news. New blood results show the level of our mystery compound is starting to drop. We should start seeing a reduction of symptoms soon."

"How soon?" asked McKay and Weir together.

"Hard to say since this thing is new to me. Just guessing, I'd say by morning we should see something. Now it may be a while longer before he's out of pain, but at least we're heading in the right direction."

They both breathed a sigh of relief. Elizabeth looked at a very tired Rodney McKay. "Rodney, why don't you get some sleep. I'll sit with him."

McKay started to protest, but realized that Elizabeth really wanted some time with Sheppard. "Okay. Call me if there's any change." He got up from the chair. "I have it all warmed up for you."

"Gee, thanks," she said. McKay walked tiredly out of the infirmary, heading for his quarters. Elizabeth took his place beside Sheppard. She touched his hand. "I'm here John. I'm here." Sheppard continued to move and roll with the waves of pain, occasionally moaning.

At some point, John noted the pain had changed. It was still there, rolling and dancing across his body in a totally unpredictable pattern, and yet it wasn't as sharp. He still had to move with the pain to keep from crying out, but it was becoming manageable. He'd had a brief break earlier and he thought he might have slept a little - enought to give him some strength. He'd thought maybe it was over, and then the pain had returned with a vengence. Now, as the waves seemed to decrease in intensity, he wondered if he should hope. He needed this to be over. He couldn't stand much more.

Elizabeth watched him struggling against the pain and wondered how much more he could take. It was very late and the infirmary was dark. She had dozed off a couple of times, only to be awakened by the rattling of the bed next to her. How could he still be thrashing around like that after all these hours. Surely he had to be exhausted. She leaned forward and watched his face. Did she see something? His eyes briefly opened, then closed. She put her hand on his arm. "John, can you hear me? John, I'm here. You're not alone."

His eyes flickered open again and he lay looking at her. She couldn't tell if he was seeing her or not. "John...John, can you hear me?"

"T...t...time..." he whispered hoarsely.

"It's about two a.m. Would you like an ice chip?" she asked, reaching for the cup. Without waiting for an answer, she placed a small piece of ice in his mouth. He closed his eyes, seeming to savor it.

"John, if you can hear me, I have good news. Carson says the level of the toxin in your blood is dropping. You should start getting better by tomorrow. Just hang on a little longer. It's almost over. You're going to be okay."

Sheppard could not process everything she had just said. It was simply too much. He did, however, wrap himself around the words "almost over" and cling to them for dear life.

She had no idea if he heard her or not. There was no external response. She could only hope that he understood.

She left about six a.m. and went to her office to check on Atlantis and take care of business that had to be tended to. She returned to the infirmary about mid-morning to check on John's condition. Beckett was coming out of his office as she entered the room.

"Elizabeth, I was just about to call you. Good news. I just got his latest bloodwork back and the levels have really started dropping. It seems that he's not struggling quite as hard, either. I think this will be over by this afternoon...maybe tonight. He should be able to really get some rest tonight."

Elizabeth smiled broadly for the first time in three days. "Oh, that is good news, Carson. Finally!" They began walking towards Sheppard's bed. As they approached, she noticed that, while he was still shifting and moving under the covers, it didn't seem nearly as animated. "He does seem better," she commented, the relief evident in her voice.

"Aye. His blood pressure and pulse are coming back down as well. We/ve almost made it." Beckett seemed almost as relieved as Weir.

They turned toward the door as McKay entered with Ford and Teyla close behind. Ford and Teyla had been off world the last few days, on loan to another team that needed extra manpower for a mission. Apparently, the team had returned and McKay had been filling them in on the major's predicament. "Carson, how's the major?" McKay felt his heart leap when he saw the smile on Carson and Elizabeth's faces. "Good news?"

Beckett nodded. "Just got the latest bloodwork back. The levels are dropping rapidly. We were just noticing that his vitals signs are getting back to normal and his motions don't seem as frantic. We think the pain level must be diminishing."

McKay placed his hand on John's shoulder. "The trembling is still there...almost like he's really, really cold."

"Aye. That may last a little longer. I'm sure he'll have residual effects for a few days. This isn't going to go away completely overnight. I just want the pain level down where he can get some rest and at least have a lucid moment ever now and again. And he's goin' to be very sore. He's had almost continual muscle cramps for the better part of three days. He's really goin' to be sore."

Beckett could not get rid of any of them. Knowing that the symptoms were diminishing and that Sheppard might become conscious enough to talk to, none of them could bear to leave. So they paced, played cards, talked, and lay around on the surrounding beds until mid afternoon. McKay and Weir had completely filled Ford and Teyla in on all their efforts to find the source of the poison or toxin that had plagued Sheppard. They were silently contemplating what avenues hadn't been explored when McKay suddently stood up and walked over to Sheppard. "Get Beckett," he whispered.

Ford hurried to fetch the doctor, while the others gathered around Sheppard's bed to see what had happened to get McKay's attention. It didn't take them long to figure it out. Beckett and Ford joined the team, and the all stood around in silence watching Major John Sheppard sleep quietly, his body eerily still except for a slight tremble. The worst was finally over.

Weir decided to make one more stop by the infirmary on the way to her quarters. She'd practically driven Carson mad, contacting him several times in the afternoon and evening to check on John. There were things she absolutely had to tend to and she just wanted to sit with her major. Had she really just thought that? _Her _major? How presumptive of her. Right now, she really didn't care. He was getting better and she couldn't be happier. It was getting late and she really hoped Carson...or Nick...whoever was there, would let her sit with him a while. She just wanted to watch him sleep. Then, maybe she could actually get some sleep.

She entered the somewhat dark room and moved quietly to his bed. If you don't ask, they can't say no. She stood at the foot of his bed and took him in. He was still hooked to the monitors and IV, but the nasal cannuli had been removed. Must be a good sign. His breathing was even and reassuring. She noticed an occasional twitch - his hand...a few minutes later, one foot...and so on. But there was no frantic rolling and thrashing. His expression was peaceful...if somewhat exhausted. She took confidence that he really was going to be okay.

She walked over to the side of the bed to sit in the chair, and noticed his eyelids moving. She held her breath, not wanting to wake him and yet yearning to see those eyes. The latter took place as he opened his eyes.

"Hey you," she said. "Are you really here?"

"I'm here," he croaked, and then coughed, trying to clear the clog in his throat.

She immediately poured some water and placed the straw to his lips. one hand gently raising his head so he could drink. He gratefully drank several sips before running out of energy. She replaced the cup on the table. "Better?"

He nodded a little. He was so tired and his whole body felt like sore, molten lead. He didn't think he could move if he had to. He felt the stray muscle twitches jumping around his body in some bizarre, unpredictable pattern. But they didn't hurt. He could breathe again and he could think about something besides dealing with the pain. "Is...is it over?"

She smiled and nodded. "It's over. Dr. Beckett said the latest bloodwork shows the compound is almost completely gone."

She couldn't miss the look of relief that crossed his face. "I...I couldn't take much more...What...What compound?"

Sheppard looked confused and she realized , he probably had no idea what had happened to him. So she told him the whole story...or at least as much as they knew. By the end, she noticed his eyelids were beginning to droop and she thought about how exhausted he must be. "You need to sleep." She stood and kissed him gently on the forehead, wondering if he would be okay with his boss kissing him like that. She needn't have worried. When she stood up and looked down at him, he was already fast asleep. "Sleep John. Just sleep." She turned and left, knowing that she would sleep tonight.

Kavanagh stopped pecking on his laptop. He had recorded everything about the experiment with Sheppard. The fact that Beckett had come to him for help had been a blessing he had not expected. Not only did he get a sample of the compound and find out about the effects, he'd been able to keep check on the major's condition without raising suspicion. Everyone assumed it was natural curiousity because of his involvement in the chemical analysis. What a stroke of luck.

Now he was having more questions. Sheppard had consciously activated the rock. He wondered if it would activate unconsciously, like if the subject was unaware it was there or was asleep. Would the rock produce cumulative effects if a person was exposed to it more that once? Would the same rock activate twice? All these questions. Of course, no one knew what was going on yet. Maybe he could get answers. He knew Sheppard had worked most of the compound out of his system and was resting comfortably. It didn't look like it had done any permanent damage and the major's life had never been in any real danger. He'd been...in pain. There was no doubt about that. But military people were trained and prepared for that. It was part of the job. Kavanagh quietly convinced himself the research was for the greater good and prepared for phase two. He would need to slip into the infirmary undetected...and he needed to do it tonight. He hoped Major Sheppard was ready for part two of his experiment.

TBC

I know. I just can't help myself. It's a sickness. I should be able to update much more quickly this time.


	6. Chapter 6

I am so overwhelmed by all the nice reviews. You guys are just...totally awesome! Thank you so very much for all the nice warm fuzzies. Sniff, sniff! You have me jumping up and down and giggling with excitement.

Chapter 6

Kavanagh lurked outside the infirmary in the darkened hallway. Fortunately there wasn't much traffic at 3:30 in the morning. He wasn't sure what he would tell anyone who came along and questioned his actions. He was just hoping not to get caught. He gently fingered the smooth stone in his pocket, then suddenly let go as he remembered what it was capable of. He was pretty sure he was safe since he didn't have the ancient gene, but why take chances. He risked another peak into the infirmary to see if the nurse was still at the desk at one end of the general ward. She was. He pulled back out of the doorway. How could he get her out of there?

His thoughts were interrupted by a muffled crash from inside the infirmary. He leaned forward far enough to see the desk. The nurse was not there. Finally. He leaned forward a little more and then he saw her. She had her back to him, looking into the doorway of another room. "Dr. Strauhan? Are you alright?" He heard the muted sounds of a reply and then the nurse walked into the back room.

Kavanagh seized the opportunity, swiftly moving to the opposite side of Sheppard's bed and squatting on the floor beside him. He should be hidden here if the nurse returned before he left. He watched Sheppard for a second, making sure the major was sleeping. Confident that the man was out, he slowly opened Sheppard's hand and dropped the stone in his palm, closing his fingers over the stone. He tried to time how long he left the stone in the major's hand, but he was so afraid of getting caught that his attention kept wandering. He realized the nurse was coming back this way, talking to the doctor as she moved. Great. That probably meant they would both be here shortly. He had to get out now and he had no idea how long the major had held the rock in his hand. He pulled back the limp fingers and grabbed the rock. He smiled as he realized it was warm. Suddenly looking concerned, he grabbed some gauze pads off the shelf to wrap the stone in as he quietly exited the infirmary.

A short time later, Sheppard awoke suddenly, not immediately aware of what had wrenched him to consciousness. He lay still a second, listening to the monitor in the quiet darkness. Then he felt it. His muscles were beginning to twitch in a random, racing pattern. Panic suddenly crushed over his chest, causing him to desperately gasp for breath as he realized it was starting again. Lightning hot pain suddently raced through his chest and into his abdomen. Unprepared for the sudden and startling pain, he cried out as he rolled to his side and drew his legs up to his chest. "Noooooooo!" The movement was so sudden that he rammed his face into the bedrails as he began gagging and vomiting, the pain already beginning to crescendo to an agonizing peak. "No! No!...No!"

Dr. Nick Strauhan and Kelly Chastain, the nurse on duty, heard the tortured wail of Sheppard at the same time. Hair standing up on the back of his neck, Nick rushed to Sheppard's bed to find him curled on his side, heaving and moaning, his face pressed against the rails. Kelly turned on the lamp beside the bed.

"Major Sheppard?" Nick tried to pull Sheppard back some and get his face out of the bedrail. Kelly had a damp cloth, wiping his face. His whole body was shaking violently and he was already drenched in sweat. "Major Sheppard, can you hear me?"

Sheppard managed to get his eyes open and look at Nick. If there had ever been a more haunted or fearful expression, Nick hadyet to seeit. "Star...starting...again...can't...can't do...this...again...can't...You have to...make stop." He groaned and snapped his eyes shut in response to a wave white hot pain slicing through his arms and back. "Ohhhhhh!" He arched his back up and drove the back of his head into the pillow, desperately gasping for air. It seemed like several minutes before his body came back down to lie flat, and even then his breathing was ragged and uneven. It sounded almost like someone having a severe asthma attack. "He's having trouble breathing. Get me an oxygen mask and then...I guess you'd better call Dr. Beckett. It looks like we're going for another ride."

Beckett made it to the infirmary in record time. He found Nick and Kelly trying to change Sheppard's gown and sheets while not pulling any monitor leads off or the remaining IV line out. The task was made nearly impossible by Sheppard's violent thrashing. Beckett immediately noticed the oxygen mask and Sheppard's pallid appearance. "What happened?" he asked as he jumped in to help with the task at hand.

"I don't know," Nick explained as they worked. "He's been resting comfortably all night until just a few minutes ago. We heard him call out and when we got over here, he was already beginning to flail around. He managed to tell me it was starting again and..." Nick stopped, looking sad and troubled.

"And what?" inquired Beckett, carefully noting the doctor's expression.

Nick looked up at Beckett. "He said...He said he couldn't do it again. He asked me to make it stop. He looked so...so frightened. Carson, I know the situation, but there's got to be something we can do. I have a bad feeling that this time is going to be a lot rougher. He's already having trouble breathing, and it's only just begun."

"Aye, he's still very weak from the first round. What I don't understand is how did he come into contact with anythin'. He's been in the infirmary the last three days. How did he get exposed to...whatever this is...again?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't know...this doesn't make any sense. Could he have harbored some of the toxin in an organ...the liver or something...and then rereleased it as the blood levels dropped?"

"I suppose it's possible. Let's get new bloodwork done. Once we see the levels, we'll have a better idea if it was something like that or a new exposure."

Elizabeth walked into the mess hall to fill her coffee cup on her way to the infirmary. She actually felt rested and relaxed for the first time in days. She was working hard not to have a literal spring in her step that would be obvious to everyone around her. She planned on sitting and talking with John before she went to her office and the daily chores of running Atlantis. This was going to be such a good day.

"Hey Elizabeth! You're looking happy this morning." She glanced over at Rodney McKay, who had come up beside her to fill his own coffee cup.

"I might say the same thing about you. Did you sleep well?"

McKay nodded, a big grin plastered to the front of his face. "I most certainly did...slept like a baby. And now I'm starving. Want to eat breakfast with me?"

"Thank you, but no. I'm just getting coffee."

"Off to see the major?" asked Rodney, a tell-tale twinkle in his eyes.

Elizabeth almost blushed. She tried to sound professional. "Yes, I thought I'd check on him before I head to the control room. I've got..." She put a finger to her headset and Rodney could tell she was listening. His smile began to fade as he watched the color drain from her face and the light in her eyes slowly dim. "Rodney's with me. I'll tell him. We'll be right there."

"Tell me what? We'll be right where? What's going on?" Even as he asked, his stomach clenched, He already knew the answer - Elizabeth had told him with her expression.

"It's John...it's started again." They stood in silence for a moment before abandoning their morning caffeine and heading to the infirmary, the smiles long gone.

Rodney and Elizabeth arrived in the infirmary a few minutes later. Carson and Nick were busy checking monitors and IV lines and trying to keep Sheppard still enough not to pull everything out. The rolling, shaking, and thrashing seemed at least as intense as it had before. Both noticed the addition of the oxygen mask.

"Carson?" Elizabeth called. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid it's back with a vengence. It started up about an hour or so ago without warning. No idea what brought it on. He's been shaking, vomiting, and rolling around ever since. He's havin' trouble breathin' this time, as well. We've been trying to get him settled...but we're not havin' much luck."

Rodney had begun to pace nervously. "I thought you said this was over. Carson, we told him it was over. How can this be starting again? What happened?"

"Calm down, Rodney. I don't know how this happened. His bloodwork should be back soon, That should tell us more. Until then, there's nothing we can do except try to make him more comfortable."

"Does he look comfortable to you?" Rodney shouted in frustration and anger. He looked down at the shaking, struggling figure, audibly moaning in pain as he shifted around in the bed. And then, he just couldn't watch any more. He felt the hopelessness rise up in him and threaten to take his breath away. He was nauseous from the rising anger at whoever would have done something like this, not once, but twice. "I can't watch this any more." Rodney stormed out of the infirmary before anyone could see the hot tears making a salty trail down his face.

They stood quietly watching the doorway, half expecting McKay to come back. But he didn't. No one was angry with him because they understood his anger and frustration. Elizabeth looked at Carson. "I guess I'd better tell Teyla and Lt. Ford."

By midmorning, Kavanagh could stand it no longer. He made his way to the infirmary to find out what was going on with Major Sheppard. Luck was with him again. He didn't actually have to go into the infirmary. He bumped into Kelly Chastain, coming off night duty, in the hall. He recognized her as the nurse he had watched early that morning from the hall.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Please excuse me," she said as they both recovered. "Guess I was a little distracted," she said sadly.

"That's quite all right. Aren't you one of the nurses?" he asked innocently. She nodded. "How's Major Sheppard? I heard he was doing better."

"Not any more, unfortunately. I'm afraid he's had a relapse of his symptoms, but maybe even worse this time."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he gets better soon."

She nodded. "I think we all hope that. No one should have to go through that once, much less twice. If they ever figure out someone did this on purpose...let's just say they'll regret it. There's a lot of people in this city that would rip them limb from limb for making the major suffer like this." With that she walked down the hall, leaving a shaky Kavanagh to worry about getting caught. He would have to be very careful, he thought as he made his way to his lab to record his findings.

Radek Zelenka entered the lab to find McKay absent-mindedly fingering a small device left behind by the Ancients. He stopped and silently watched the man before speaking. "Rodney, what are you doing?"

McKay looked up from the device toward Radek. "I'm planting a garden. What does it look like I'm doing," he said sarcastically. "What do you want, Radek?"

"I'm wondering why you are here and not infirmary. I should think you'd be with the major. I see Dr. Weir in the hall and she told me what happened. You are worried about the major, yes?"

McKay quit trying to look interested in the ancient device and placed it on the table. "Yes, yes, of course I'm worried. I just don't seem capable of doing anything to help and...God help me, I just can't sit there and watch him suffer like that any more." McKay got up and began pacing nervously around the room. "I just need to be able to do something to help. I feel like we are missing something obvious. I feel so guilty...like I should be able to solve this and find a way...find a way to fix him. I can't just sit there any more." McKay ran his hand nervously through his hair as he continued to pace.

"I never know how selfish you really are til now," said Radek softly.

McKay stopped pacing to look curiously at the man. "What do you mean by that?"

"Is Major Sheppard a good friend or not?"

McKay looked down at his feet. "He's...he's my best friend."

"I know that Rodney," Zelenka said. "Now act like it. Friends are willing to sacrifice for one another, no?" McKay nodded, not sure where Zelenka was headed with this. "The major is hurting right now and he needs his friends around him. Dr. Beckett has said that this will be very hard on the major. His friends, they are staying with him...talking to him and touching him so that they might be a ...a link...so that he knows he does not do this alone. The doctor, he thinks this might help. Yes, it is hard to see friend in pain such as this...but he needs you, Rodney."

After a moment, Rodney slowly nodded. He knew Radek was right. Sheppard would be there for him. He may not be able to take the pain away, but at least he could help the major ride it out until it was gone. After the events of the morning, he wondered if it would ever be over. A chill ran through him as he realized that Sheppard must be wondereing the same thing. He looked at Radek, who was watching him intently.

"When did you get so smart, Radek?"

Zelenka smiled at him reassuringly. "I always this smart. You just not notice til now. Now go. Go help the major."

McKay paused and placed one hand on Zelenka's shoulder. "Thanks, Radek." Zelenka nodded and McKay headed for the infirmary.

McKay arrived in the infirmary to find the rest of the team assembled around Sheppard's bed, his condition apparently unchanged. Elizabeth smiled at him and nodded, obviously glad he had returned.

"Anything new?" he asked.

"Just his bloodwork. It's the same compound and the levels are sky high again. Carson said he was exposed to the same chemical again, but no one has a clue how with him lying in the infirmary. Someone's been with him almost every minute."

"**Almost** every minute. That's how. Someone is obviously doing this to him on purpose and they better hope I never catch up with them. They'll beg me to feed them to the wraith."

The others looked disturbed at what was increasingly looking like the only possible explanation. Someone was poisoning Sheppard. Ford looked at McKay. "Just be sure you save a piece for me."

By the morning of the next day, Sheppard was completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. At first he'd tried to grasp onto the conversation around him, at least enough to be aware of who was in the room. He was aware enough to realize they seemed to be staying with him in shifts. It seemed someone was always talking to him or touching him...someone familiar and comforting. As time wore on, however, the pain filled his consciousness more and more until he could process little else. He was still sporadically aware of voices and touches, but it was no longer enough to provde much comfort. The sharp, searing pain engulfed him as it rolled through his body like a tidal wave, taking away his breath again and again and again. It caught him unprepared, sending shock waves through him more and more often. He was losing the battle and he knew it. He simply didn't have the energy to fight any more.

He briefly opened his eyes and tried to focus. He was on his side and someone was standing next to him, mere inches away from his head. He could see their weapon strapped to their hip and in an instant, his scrambled thoughts not processing anything but the endless pain, he realized that the end to the pain was right in front of him. If he could just reach out his hand. He tried to reach for the weapon, but he lacked control of his body and he only succeeded in ramming his hand into the bedrail. This caught the attention of the people around him. Someone placed an ice chip in his mouth and he felt the coolness spread through his mouth and slide down his parched throat. Voices. Touches. He slipped back into the endless void of pain that had become his life, his chance of escape now gone.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks again for all the nice words. I'd love to do more...like maybe have a big party with cake and chips and all kinds of food and games to give you guys a proper thank you. So just picture yourself eating cake as you read this next chapter. Since it's imaginary cake, it can be any flavor you want. And it won't make you fat!

Extra special thanks to Emrys1 and rogue1503 for the world's longest, most flattering, and entertaining reviews. I think I may print them out and frame them. Or just carry them with me to look at when I'm having a bad day and cheer myself right up. THANKS!

Chapter 7

Rodney McKay paced nervously back and forth beside Sheppard's bed, periodically placing a hand on the man's shoulder or arm to establish contact. He was carrying on a fast-paced commentary about recent theories in nuclear physics and his opinions of the theories and their inventors. They were now well into the third day of Sheppard's relapse and he had talked about everything under the sun and a few things above it. Although he had a few times sat in the chair beside the bed and confessed his feelings of concern and sorrow over the major's condition, he found he needed to move on to other, less traumatic things to talk about. Hence, the physics lesson.

McKay paused a moment at the unusual sound coming from the anguished form on the bed, his train of thought having totally vanished. He realized the steady moaning that had been emanating from Sheppard had become more of a whimper, and his movements were sluggish and jerky. He might have hoped the change indicated an improvement, but Carson had reported an hour ago that his blood levels of the mystery compound (as they had come to refer to it) were still very high. His body was not metabolizing or flushing or whatever it did to get rid of the compound as fast this go around. Even with the oxygen mask on, Sheppard seemed to be struggling to breathe.

"Carson! Get in here!" he yelled as he moved to Sheppard's side. Sheppard's movements had slowed somewhat, except for the shaking. His eyes opened to slits. "John, can you here me? It's Rodney. Hang in there buddy, Carson's on his way."

Sheppard moved his lipe slightly, as if trying to say something. Rodney leaned forward, close to Sheppard's mouth. "Can't...Can't...do...it..." Sheppard's eyes closed tightly against the next wave of pain, but there was little other movement. He was too exhausted.

McKay looked up to find Beckett beside him. He hadn't realized the doctor had walked up. "What's happenin' Rodney?"

McKay straightened up and turned his fearful eyes toward Beckett. "I think he's given up. Look at him. Listen."

They watched the major shake and twitch as his breathing seemed to become more ragged. The beeping on the heart monitor seemed to be uneven and erratic. Beckett motioned toward a nurse at the other end of the room. "Is Dr. Strauhan here yet?"

"Yes, I think I saw him come in a minute ago."

"Get him please," Beckett said quietly. He turned back to Sheppard and found Rodney looking at him.

"What?"

Beckett rubbed his eyes tiredly. "If his breathin' gets any worse, we'll probably have to put him on a ventilator."

"Carson...he's not going to...die...is he?"

Beckett sighed. "I can't make any guarantees, Rodney. His condition's gettin' worse. I just don't know."

Fear clutched at McKay's heart. Up until now, it had been extremely difficult to deal with Sheppard's condition because of the relentless pain that shook his body. The one positive thing was that he hadn't had to worry about the major surviving the ordeal. But things had changed now...and not for the better. He wasn't cut out for all this emotional turmoil. This was one reason why he didn't make friends. If he hadn't started caring for these people...this surrogate family thrown together millions of miles from home...he could be happily working in his lab, oblivious to the battle going on in the infirmary. Of course, that would make him a Kavanagh clone and he _really_ did not want to go there.

CRASH! The sudden, loud clanging jerked him out of his introspection and into the present. He looked up to see that Sheppard had inexplicably sat bolt upright in bed and was now frantically trying to crawl out over the railing. He was halfway out of bed before McKay and Beckett recovered from their shock and tried to stop him. He was moaning loudly and pulling out IV lines and monitor leads as he struggled with the two men. How could anyone that exhausted and sick fight so hard? He was obviously disoriented and had no idea what he was doing.

"Major! John, you can't get out of bed. You have to lay down, lad. Let us help you." Beckett pleaded with Sheppard as he tried to push him back into the bed. McKay looked up to find Nick Strauhan helping them. It took several minutes, but they finally got Sheppard settled back in the bed. Beckett replaced the oxygen mask on Sheppard's face and then he and Nick went about reattaching IV lines and monitor leads.

McKay, somewhat in shock, just stood and watched. "What was that? How did he do that?"

Beckett shook his head. "Darned if I know. This is the strangest stuff I've ever seen. Almost like he was hallucinating."

They had almost finshed when Sheppard's whole body began to tremble more violently. The struggling from before was gone and he lay stilll except for the intense shaking. All three men paused what they were doing, afraid of what was coming next. And then Sheppard began having convulsions, his arms and legs thrashing about, threatening to rip out the IV lines yet again. Carson and Nick each grabbed an arm, trying to keep the attached lines attached. McKay stood rooted to the floor, unable to breathe, much less to move. It seemed to go on forever before John's body finally lay still on the bed.

"Carson?" McKay inquired weakly.

"Bloody seizure," Beckett replied. "I think things just got worse. I better go contact Elizabeth." He looked over at Nick. "Guess I'll be hanging around a while tonight. This may take both of us."

Nick just nodded. "I'm afraid tonight could get kind of rough. I'd appreciate the help."

Beckett headed for his office to contact Elizabeth and Nick went back to reattaching lines and checking the ones that had somehow remained connected. "Are you okay, Dr. McKay?" He had noticed the ashen expression on the man's face.

"Oh yeah! Just peachy. Nothing like watching your best friend seize for entertainment. Wonder what he'll do for an encore?" he said sarcastically, trying not to let the gravity of the situation sink in.

Nick was not fooled by the act. "Well, he almost walked across the bedrail - maybe next time we can get him to skateboard it. I understand he's quite good."

McKay let himself smile a little. "Well, that what he likes to tell people."

"Sounds like a bit of a challenge...for when he's better." McKay smiled a little bigger at the doctor, appreciating the change in mood.

"Yeah...a challenge. Thanks doc."

Elizabeth, trapped in a never-ending meeting that the participants thought was critical, arrived at the infirmary about ninety minutes later, just after Sheppard's third seizure of the night. McKay was quickly becoming a basket case. Carson and Nick, desperately trying to figure out what was causing the episodes while keeping the major from pulling all his lines out, were about ready to send him packing. Carson immediately latched onto Elizabeth's arrival as a chance to distract Rodney, asking him to carch her up on everything that had happened.

When Rodney was finished, the two just stood and watched as the doctors seemed to go over Sheppard with a fine toothed comb, examining him thoroughly. Beckett listened to Sheppard's chest and sides with his stethoscope, frowning as he moved the instrument around. He looked up at Nick, who was watching him. "How's his oxygen level?"

"Not good. You want me to roll him?"

Beckett nodded. Nick gently ran his hands under the major's side and rolled him up towad the other side, exposing his back for Beckett to probe with his stethoscope. Beckett listened and moved it a couple of times before abruptly standing upright. "What the...he's stopped breathing. We'll have to intubate."

Rodney and Elizabeth stood frozen in place, unable to comprehend that things had gotten worse, yet again. They were both wondering how much more he could take.

Beckett moved to the major's head and made sure the bed was flat, removing the pillow from under Sheppard's head. Nick handed him the laryngoscope as he tilted Sheppard's head back and inserted the instrument in the major's mouth. McKay turned away for a second, telling himself that he absoltutely could not be sick right now. By the time he turned back, Beckett had inserted the endotracheal tube in the major's throat and was connecting it to the respirator. Nick taped the tube securely to Sheppard's face. The swoosh of the machine seemed all too loud as they turned it on and it began breathing for Major Sheppard. Beckett continued to monitor the machine's actions and listen with the stethoscope for several minutes. Satisfied, at last that Sheppard was getting enough oxygen, Beckett moved back to the side of the bed.

Carson and Nick watched Sheppard and the beeping heart monitor for several quiet minutes. "His rhythm is still a little off," commented Nick.

"Aye," said Carson, nodding. "I think that's the best we can do at the moment, though."

"Carson," Elizabeth began. "Is he...asleep?"

"I hope so, lass. I sure do hope so."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Many thanks again! You guys are going to give me a big head if you keep this up. Of course, feel free to keep this up.

Mandykerr - if you can get Sheppard to massage my back (or even appear before me for a minute), I'll write till I have no skin on my fingers and I drop from exhaustion. That's a promise!

Yes, everyone, I promise, Kavanagh will get his in the end. I'm not sure if it will be enough to satisfy the blood lust currently raging through the reviews, but he will regret his actions. Of course, who knows, he may not be exactly finished yet. Guess we'll have to wait and see. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Cruel and all that. Whatever. Read on...

Chapter 8

Elizabeth sat beside Sheppard's bed, gently holding his left hand in hers. She was careful of the IV entering the side of his forearm just under the thumb. A band-aid remained across the back of his hand where he had ripped the IV out trying to climb out of the bed two days before. She gently rubbed her index finger across the fading marks on his palms, injuries inflicted by his fingernails as he clenched his fist tightly a week earlier. That seemed like an eternity ago. A solid week of misery and wondering how this had happened. She felt the warmth of his hand in hers and found it strangely reassuring. The only sounds in the room were the steady whoosh of the respirator and the beeping of the heart monitor, both a reminder that John was still alive. Carson had told her over the past two days how his vital signs were becoming stronger and more regular as the toxin level in his blood dropped. But he was still very weak, unable to breathe on his own. That scared her. After days of restless torment in which he was in 24 hour motion, he was now still and quiet. She had prayed for this stillness, and yet it scared her too. He was so pale, except for the dark circles under his eyes where he had gone days without any sleep. She could only imagine how exhausted he must be. She gently ran her hand up his forearm, feeling the slight tremble coursing through his muscles like power through a power line. Carson had told her his muscles were still firing constantly, just at a much lower level and a much slower pace. - enough lower that he could sleep.

She looked up to see Carson walk up and start his routine check of Sheppard and the machines monitoring him and keeping him alive. He nodded to her and began to check the respirator, followed by a quick check of the monitor. "The arhythmia has almost corrected itself. Looks like we won't have to worry about permanent damage to his heart. I just checked his latest blood workup. The toxin has dropped to almost nothin'. He should make a complete recovery."

"What about the respirator?"

"He's gettin' stronger. He's not ready for me to wean him off yet, though. He's still pretty weak. I'd say another twenty-four...maybe forty-eight hours at the most. I'll just have to see how he does." He smiled down at Elizabeth, holding Sheppard's hand so tenderly. "He's goin' to be fine. The worst is over."

Elizabeth's expression darkened. "That's what we said the last time. I assured John that everything was okay and then...this." She waved her hand toward the machinery.

"Aye, lass, I know. But this time you have a marine posted twenty-fours hours a day on guard and I have someone directly with him at all times. He's being watched by two sets of eyes. We have him protected...he's safe. This time, it really is over."

"I hope you're right Carson. The next thing we need to do is get to work on who did this. Rest assured, they will NOT get away with this. Where's Sherlock Holmes when you need him? I just want to..." Elizabeth suddenly turned and looked at John. "Carson, he squeezed my hand!" Elizabeth and Carson each moved up to the side of the bed and leaned over to see Sheppard's face better, carefully peering around the ventilator tube. Sure enough, his eyes were trying to open.

Elizabeth kept a hold on his hand, partly to let him know she was there and partly to keep him for reaching for the tube in his throat, a reflexive action she knew he would take. Thinking the same thing, Carson took hold of his other hand.

"Major Sheppard? Go ahead and open your eyes, son. Elizabeth and I are here and I think she's been missing you."

Elizabeth's face reddened slightly as Carson grinned at her. She gave him her best "I'll tend to you later" look and then focused her attention on John. His eyes were open now and he was beginning to struggle, fear in his eyes. He was disoriented and didn't yet realize why he felt like he was choking. "Calm down, John. It's okay. You stopped breathing and Carson had to intubate. You're on a ventilator to help you breathe, Just relax and go with it. You've done this before...you're okay...I promise."

Sheppard was watching her and she thought she saw a look of understanding cross his face. Slowly, he stopped struggling against them, but she thought she still saw fear in his eyes...a desperate, haunted fear. Guilt washed over her as she remembered telling him before that the pain was over, only to have it come back stronger. He didn't trust that the pain was gone for good.

"John, it really is over this time. Someone has been poisoning you. We have you under twenty-four hour guard to make sure we don't have a repeat of what happened last time. You really are safe. I promise you, we won't let it happen again." Sheppard squeezed her hand to let her know he understood, but she couldn't miss that fact that he still seemed worried.

"All right, major, I need to ask you a couple of quick questions. I know you can't speak, lad, so blink once for yes and twice for no. Are you in pain?" Two blinks. "Okay, I know I can still feel muscle tremors runnin' through ya, are those causing ya pain?" John hesitated, then two blinks. "I'm guessin' they are uncomfortable, then." One blink. "Are you havin' any other problems?" Two blinks. Beckett nodded and smiled, placing a firm hand on the major's shoulder. "Good then. Major, I'm expecting a full recovery, but it's goin' to take a while. You're very weak. I expect I'll keep ya on the respirator another day or two till you're stronger."

Sheppard frowned and looked more than a little panicked. Beckett smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry lad. The drug is almost gone from your system. I think it'll be safe to sedate you until I can take you off the ventilator. You won't feel a thing." True to his word, Beckett pulled a syringe he had prepared earlier from his coat pocket and injected it into the IV port. Sheppard briefly squeezed Elizabeth's hand again and she squeezed back. They locked eyes until his eyelids began to close and his grip on her hand slowly went slack.

"Sleep, John. We'll watch over you until you're better." Elizabeth looked over at Beckett. "I'm guessing he'll be out for a while."

"I'll probably keep him under until we take him off the ventilator. He's been through enough this past week. I sure don't want him awake with a tube down his throat. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Elizabeth nodded, obviously struggling with something. "Okay...Carson, I've got to go do some work. I'm so far behind now, I'll probably never catch up as it is. Will you let me know if there's any change?"

"Aye lass, but I wouldn't worry. He just needs some rest and some time to heal. I'll call if anythin' happens though."

"Okay." She stood there watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator whooshed beside him. Then, suddenly, she turned and walked out of the infirmary before she had time to talk herself out of it.

Sheppard drifted to consciousness slowly, at first only aware of faint sounds somewhere in the distance. As the sounds drifted closer, he realized they were voices. Gradually he came to recognize who the voices belonged to and what they were saying. His team was there, surrounding him, supporting him. Suddenly, he tensed, waiting for the pain. It wasn't there. He could feel small tremors occasionally dart across a muscle, but the clenching, mind-numbing pain was gone.

"Hey look, I think he's waking up." Ford sounded like a kid at a birthday party watching the guest of honor open the present he brought. If he hadn't been so bone-tired, he might have smiled. At the moment he was trying to pry his eyes open and not having much luck. He felt hands on him, his shoulder, his arm, his leg. His team was connecting to him, letting him know they were there. He finally got one eye open a crack and then, upon further work, the other. He was relieved to find he could breathe - no more tube in his throat. He hated that feeling, like you were choking to death and couldn't take in any air. He'd have to remember to thank Beckett for the knock-out juice. He just wished he could have gotten some sooner.

"Hey you, it's about time." Had to be Elizabeth. He pried his eyes open a little wider. The smile on her face sent a flush of warmth through him, making his hands tingle.

He tried to reply, but was only successful in making a garbled croaking sound. His throat was dry and sore from the ventilator tube. The gift that keeps on giving. Teyla lifted his head slightly as Elizabeth held a straw to his lips. He drank until she pulled the cup away. "Not too much. We don't want you wearing that in a little while."

God, no. He didn't want that. He distinctly remembered vomiting many times in the last...however long it had been. He didn't want to go that direction again for a while. He tried talking again. "How...long?"

He caught the nervous expression on Elizabeth's face as she debated what to tell him. "Ten days...since the beginning." Ten days. He'd lost ten days...spent most of it in hell. He closed his eyes, processing the information. He really hadn't had any concept of time. Although it had felt like forever, he had secretly hoped it wasn't ...maybe just a couple of days in reality. Ten days.

"Major?" He looked up to find Beckett hovering over him, looking concerned. When did he get here? He must have dozed off for a second.

"Hey, doc." Sheppard had barely managed a hoarse whisper.

"How are you feeling?" Sheppard felt like an aritfact on display. His team stood around Beckett, hanging on every word. He wanted to see them and talk to them, but he wanted them to go away at the same time. He yearned to be alone and deal with the aftermath of what had happened, and yet he was terrified to be alone. But then, that wasn't what Beckett was asking.

"I'm good. A little tired...a little sore. Really thirsty." His voice was starting to come back a little stronger. At least Beckett didn't have to press his ear to Sheppard's face to hear him any more.

"Aye. You'll be experiencing that for several days as you recover. How are the muscle tremors?"

"There...but not bad. They kind of...flit around a bit."

The team watched as Beckett checked Sheppard's vitals and listened with the stethoscope. He then checked the IV line, heart monitor, and the nasal cannula that had replaced the respirator. Throughout the exam, he was asking Sheppard questions to ascertain the major's condition and alertness. Satisfied, he finally stood back and hung his stethoscope over his shoulders. "You're looking good, major." Beckett looked around at the visitors. "He's still recovering and still very weak, so don't stay too long. He needs his rest. I'll check back with you in a little while and throw you out if need be." Glancing at Elizabeth, he said, "You can give him a little water every little bit, just not too much at one time. Make him take it slow."

Elizabeth nodded. "We'll take care of him."

"I'm sure you will, lass." No one but Elizabeth saw him wink at her before he left.

Sheppard was a little more awake now and started trying to sit up more. Elizabeth and Teyla both instictively put their hands on his shoulder, holding him still. "Hang on, there. You're supposed to be resting. That's why these beds can be propped up, you know. Let us handle it." Elizabeth nodded to Teyla, who helped her bring the top of the bed to a semi-sitting position. It was less than the forty-five degree angle Sheppard would have preferred because the women didn't want him falling over if he went to sleep. He grunted slightly as they moved him and closed his eyes.

"John?" After a moment he opened his eyes again. "Are you okay? Should we put the bed back down?" He could see the worry in Elizabeth's face.

"I'm fine. Just sore and ...a little dizzy for a minute. I'm okay now. How about a little more water?"

Elizabeth nodded and held the cup while he drank. Once again, she removed it long before he was ready. He was too tired to argue with her. He looked up at McKay, who'd been strangely silent. Watching him, he noticed McKay was looking at the floor, the wall, his feet...anywhere but at Sheppard. Sheppard wondered briefly if he was angry with him for some reason.

"Hey, major! Did Teyla tell you about kicking butt on M3P-449?" asked Ford, grinning like a kid again.

"No, she didn't. Teyla?"

Teyla looked at Ford, somewhat annoyed. "I was only defending myself. I was not trying to...kick butt."

"Oh, you should have seen it major. We went with SGA-3 to the planet to make contact with the natives and try to work out a trade. This really rude big guy kept hitting on Teyla and she kept telling him nicely that she wasn't interested. After a while, he decides to get physical and wraps his arm around her and grabs her by the boo...I...mean the...chest...and Teyla flips him over her shoulder and has her knife at this throat before the dude could take a breath. It was awesome."

Teyla narrowed her eyes and slid them sideways at Ford in a look that told him he'd probably said too much. That was when Ford remembered that Teyla could alsokick his butt...and quite effectively.

Sheppard tried a small smile, but it wasn't very convincing. He wasn't sure if it was because he was tired, because he thought Rodney was mad at him, or because he felt tense with worry. He knew there was no reason to worry...yet he had this sense of dread. He was afraid...afraid it would start again. Afraid it would catch him off guard and suddenly double him over just when he thought he was safe. He looked at the marine standing at the door. He knew he was safe and yet he didn't feel safe. He wasn't sure at this point if he would ever feel safe again.

"John, are you all right?" He shifted his gaze to Elizabeth.

"Uh...what? I'm sorry...guess I kind of drifted for a minute. Still kind of hard to concentrate."

Elizabeth patted his hand. "It's okay. We should let you rest."

"Wait...did you find out...do you know who was poisoning me?" He looked at her hopefully and she would have given anything to have been able to tell him yes.

"No...we don't know yet. But I promise, we will. We're not even sure where the poison...or toxin... or whatever it was, came from. Kavanagh analyzed it for us and even he didn't have a clue. He thinks it may have contained one or more elements that are new to us. I think he's still trying to figure it out."

Sheppard looked amazed. "Kavanagh helped? You obviously didn't tell him it was for me." Sheppard knew the man's lowly opinion of him and the other soldiers. He suspected he held a special place on the "useless and annoying soldier" list the man kept in his head.

Elizabeth smiled. "Carson sweet-talked him into it. Our doctor is a closet diplomat, it seems."

"Not likely," muttered McKay.

"What's that, Rodney?" asked Sheppard. McKay still would not make eye contact with him.

At that time, Beckett strolled back across the room. "Are you people still here? Exactly what part of he needs his rest did you not understand? Now, shoo...the lot of you." Beckett motioned towards the door to the infirmary as if they were a swarm of flies he was trying to move toward the hallway.

"Rodney?" called Sheppard. McKay stopped, but didn't turn around.

Beckett started to protest, but changed his mind when he saw the look on Sheppard's face. "You've got five minutes," he whispered to Rodney as the ushered the rest of the group out of the infirmary.

"I'm sorry Rodney." McKay finally looked at Sheppard and noticed how really tired he looked. His eyelids were starting to droop and he was kind of listing to one side.

"Oh for heaven's sake, you're sagging. Let's get you back down." He hurriedly made his way to the head of the bed and returned it to a horizontal position. He shifted Sheppard over to the center of the bed because he honestly didn't think the major had the energy to do it himself.

"Thanks," said Sheppard softly.

"Why are you sorry? You beat all I ever saw. You've been cooped up in here either in agony or unconscious on a respirator for ten days because someone poisoned you and you're telling me you're sorry. I don't even pretend to understand that." Rodney threw his hands in the air toemphasize his confusion.

Sheppard continued to look at McKay, his eyes unwavering. "I'm sorry for the whole thing in the hall. I know it kind of freaked you out. I really tried to hold it together until we got to the infirmary...I just...couldn't." Sheppard hated admitting defeat.

McKay dropped into the chair next to the bed and looked at Sheppard. "You think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad at you, you idiot. I was scared. I've never seen anything like that...and I just felt so darn helpless. You needed help...and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to do it. I couldn't even figure out who poisoned you. I'm not mad at you...I'm mad at me because you needed me and I failed you."

"Rodney, last time I checked, your doctorate wasn't in medicine or criminology. You've saved all our hides on more occasions that I care to think about. You always do what you can. Some things are just out of your reach. This may be hard to take, but McKay...you're not God."

Sheppard saw a brief smile before McKay put his hand to his face in mock horror and replied, "Oh, say it ain't so."

McKay put his hand down to see Sheppard's eyes were almost closed, a small smile on his face. Maybe they would both be okay after all.

TBC

The good news is that it's not a cliffhanger for once. The bad news is that the next few days look really packed, so it may be next week before I can update. Hey, at least I didn't leave you with him in cardiac arrest or something. Enjoy (I hope).


	9. Chapter 9

Many, many thanks for all the great reviews again. I'm sure I don't deserve most of them, but I'll take them anyway. Sorry about the delay in updating and thanks for being patient. I finally got enough time to put together a chapter and I hope I didn't do it in too big a hurry and mess it up. Let me know if I did and I'll try to redeem myself.

Vonknibble - Thanks for the offer on the medical stuff. I may take you up on the offer for help. I love the medical stuff and think it adds to the realism, but I don't know enough to do much effectively (which is my I'm so hopelessly hooked on Cummulative Effects).

Espiritu -Glad you took the hint on cardiac arrest and I hope to see the next chapter soon (how long have we been in cardiac arrest now? They are going to declare time of death on me any minute).

Emrysl - What can I say? I laughed so hard I cried. My family thought I was having some kind of fit and almost had me hauled off. Talk about getting pumped up. I flew around the room for several minutes. Thanks (blushing).

Drakcir - My lips are sealed - you'll have to wait and see. I am considering making a run for it, however.

Chapter 9

Nick set the cup of coffee on the edge of the desk Kelly was sitting at, working on updating reports by the light of a lamp. The infirmary was basically dark, except for this little corner. "You take cream, right?"

She looked at the coffee and then up at Nick. "Dr. Strauhan...thank you. I'm not used to having the doctor wait on me."

"No problem. You looked busy and, if you're like me, I thought you could use it. How's our patient?" he asked, sipping from his cup.

"Quiet up until a few minutes ago. He's starting to get pretty restless. I think he may be dreaming...he's been mumbling in his sleep a little."

Nick set his cup on the edge of the desk. "Keep an eye on that, would you? I'll check him." He grinned and winked at her.

"Yeah, because we have so many coffee thefts in the middle of the night." She rolled her eyes and looked back down at her report. Nick began walking toward Sheppard's bed, noting that the major did seem restless.

Sheppard suddenly sat upright and yelled out in pain, grabbing his right leg and hugging it to his chest. Nick covered the ground to his bed in record time. "Major? Tell me what's wrong."

"Leg...leg hurts," he managed between his clenched jaws. Nick ran his hand along the major's calf muscle, where he seemed to be grabbing. He could feel the muscle knotted up into a tight clump.

"Lay back and relax, John. I've got it." Kelly was there by that time and she began pushing the major back onto the bed, pulling his hands away from his leg. Nick began massaging the muscle, trying to work out the clamping tightness.

"I can't...I can't do this again." Sheppard moaned.

Nick quickly realized what Sheppard thought was happening and moved to quell his fears. "No, major. It's just a charlie horse in your calf muscle. It'll pass in a minute. It's not the poison again. Give it a second and it will be gone. Your muscles have been traumatized by the whole experience, and it's going to take a while to recover. You may have a few muscle cramps during your recovery, but they should pass quickly. Is that any better?"

Nick had been working on the muscle the whole time he was talking. Sheppard had finally stopped fighting him and calmed down, with Kelly's help.

Sheppard still seemed to be uncomfortable, but replied, "Yeah, thanks,...that's better. Not so tight..."

He watched Sheppard closely, noting he looked pale and was covered with a thin film of sweat. His respirations were up, as was his blood pressure and pulse. "Dreaming?"

Sheppard hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah...just a little...nightmare."

"I'll get you something to help you get back to sleep." Nick noted to himself that the major didn't argue.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elizabeth walked up to the foot of Sheppard's bed. After a couple of seconds, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Hi!"

"Hi, yourself. I didn't wake you did I?" she asked.

"No, I was just resting my eyes. I'm not really sleepy any more. All I've done is sleep for the past four days."

"Well, you had a lot of sleep to catch up on. Mind if I sit with you a few minutes?"

"No. If you have time." Sheppard's expression remained neutral, as if he didn't care one way or the other. Weir didn't know whether to be insulted or worried. This was definitely not like the major.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she took her seat next to his bed.

"I'm fine. I wish everyone would quit asking me that." He stared sullenly at the foot of the bed.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what to say. "John, we're just worried about you. I guess we need _you_ to tell us you're okay instead of just hearing it from Carson. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what? I spent the better part of ten days in more pain that I ever thought imagineable. Surely hell itself couldn't be any worse." He looked at her, his eyes reflecting the anguish that he felt as he remembered the torture. "I can never do that again, Elizabeth. And I mean never."

"You won't have to John. We'll..."

"Can you guarantee that? Have you caught the person who poisoned me yet? You realize that once I leave the infirmary, I'm walking around with a target on my back. **I will not go through that again!** Would you like to know to what lengths I'm willling to go to? At some point during the second blast from Hades, I opened my eyes to see someone...Ford I think, maybe, ...anyway, I was eyeball to eyeball with their gun." He watched her expression as what he was saying began to sink in. He needed her to understand, at least on some level, how desperate he was to never have to face that kind of pain again. "I tried to reach for the gun, but I didn't have the strength. It was the only way I could see to end the pain...and I was willing to do _anything_."

Elizabeth's voice caught in her throat and she found she couldn't respond. She didn't know what to say. She thought she had known the man before her and that he would never consider taking his own life under any circumstances. To realize that he was willing to do just that frightened her to her very core. She knew Sheppard had endured a lot of pain since coming to Atlantis, but he had never given up before. She shuddered to think how bad it must have been.

"Maybe...maybe you should talk to Kate," she suggested. She couldn't read the expression on his face as he stared at her, but she knew it wasn't good. "Or...maybe not."

"She can't help me, Elizabeth. No one can." He stared at the foot of the bed.

Now Elizabeth was getting angry as well as scared. "Now you listen to me, John Sheppard. I'm not going to say I know how you feel or anything patronizing like that. But I am going to say that you are not a quitter. You have people who care for you here. Did you know members of your team took turns sitting with you and talking with you so you wouldn't be alone. They didn't have to ...no one even asked them to. They wanted to. You are important to us...you are important to **me**!" That got his attention. He swiveled his head around to look at her. "You're going to get through this. We'll help you if you'll just let us. And we are going to figure out who did this. We didn't give up on you...now you don't give up on us."

John sat silently for several minutes, contemplating what Elizabeth had said. A slight tremor ran through his left hand and he self-consciously grabbed and rubbed it with his right hand. Elizabeth flinched, wondering when these constant little reminders of his ordeal would end. "I just need some time," he said softly. She reached out and put her hand on his right hand, still rubbing the left, and squeezed.

"Just remember, we're here when you need us and you can lean on us if you need to. We won't think less of you if you ask for help."

"I know...I just...I've never been one to ask for help. I feel like I need to do things for myself."

"I know. I think we've all figured that out about you. Especially Carson." She was relieved to see him smile, even if it was small.

"Yeah...that kind of keeps me in trouble." He looked up into her eyes. He really wanted to believe that they could help, because he was becoming more afraid he couldn't handle this one alone. Maybe all he needed was to realize he didn't **have** to handle it alone in order to be able to do it. He wished he could shake the fear that seemed to grip him from inside. Sometimes he felt like it would squeeze the life out of him. But he couldn't bring himself to admit that fear to anyone...at least not yet. So he put on his best brave smile and flashed it at Elizabeth.

"Hey, how ya doing?" asked McKay, strolling across the room. "Hey, Elizabeth. Is he behaving himself? Not chasing the nurses too bad, I hope." He smiled down at Sheppard, who quietly ignored him.

"He's been the model patient...which, quite frankly, has us all a bit worried."

"Maybe Carson finally has him trained. He's probably threatened him with a voodoo curse or something," said McKay.

"And who would ya be talking about?" asked Carson, walking up behind McKay. "Voodoo curse. Honestly. Ya know I save those for you, Rodney." Beckett grinned mischievously while Rodney seemed to consider that possibility. Beckett's expression became more serious as he walked closer to Sheppard's bed. "Ya know I can throw him out if he's bothering you." He winked, but standing in front of McKay, only Sheppard and Weir could see him.

Sheppard just looked up at him, expressionless. "He's not bothering me."

Beckett really sobered up now. "Okay, Rodney can stay. Major, how about if I do something to cheer you up?"

"Like what?" His tone of voice was still deadpan, but his brow had raised in interest.

Beckett laid the bundle he had been carrying on Sheppard's lap. "Scrubs."

Sheppard didn't buy it. "What about all this stuff?" he asked, motioning towards the monitor and IV line.

"Well," said Beckett. "You've been doin' well the last couple of days. I think it's about time we get rid of those. Now that the muscle cramps and tremors have almost gone, it's time we got you up and started building your strength up. I thought you might be more comfortable in scrubs than a gown."

Sheppard fingered the edge of the clothing and chewed briefly on his lower lip. "Can I take a shower? I'd love a hot shower."

Beckett hesitated. "I'm not sure if you're strong enough. Maybe...if you'd let someone be right there with you...to help you if you get tired."

McKay piped up. "I could do that. You know...just hang around outside where you could yell if you needed me."

Sheppard looked unsure. "Guys...I didn't really want an audience. I just need...a really hot shower. I need to feel clean and unwind a few muscles."

"Well, it's not like I'm going to watch. No offense major, but you're not my type. I prefer my women to be...women. Besides...you're too skinny."

They all waited, certain that McKay's words would have to spur Sheppard to respond. They were somewhat disappointed when Sheppard just sighed tiredly and replied, "Fine, McKay. You're hired." He didn't seem to notice the three exchanging worried looks at the missed opportunity.

Weir took her cue. "Well, gentlemen, I'll leave it with you. I doubt I'll be needed for the upcoming activities." Once again, they all half expected a comeback from the major...but got nothing. "I'll see you later John." As she walked past Rodney, she whispered, "Good luck."

It only took Beckett a few minutes to unhook Sheppard from the heart monitor and the remaining IV line. Sheppard watched in seeming indifference. "Major, is there something you need to tell me? You're awfully quiet."

Sheppard shook his head. "No doc, just tired...maybe a little cranky." Sheppard tried a small smile, but it wasn't very convincing.

"All right then. Let's see if we can get you up. Rodney, when we get his feet on the ground, I'll need you to take his other arm. He's going to be very weak and it'll take him a minute or two to get his legs going. Okay, major, let's try to turn you around."

He helped Sheppard get turned so that his legs hung off the side of the bed. Each man took hold of an arm and then Beckett nodded to Sheppard. "When you're ready, son."

"Let's go, then." Sheppard began struggling to his feet, his two friends supporting him as they practically lifted him up. His legs began folding up as soon as he put weight on them. Beckett and McKay were ready and shouldered his weight, holding him up. They were both suprised at how light he was. Looking at the slender form, McKay realized he had lost quite a bit of weight over the last two weeks. He glanced at Beckett, who was giving him a look that said he already knew.

After a couple of minutes, Sheppard had gotten his walking legs under him and was supporting his own weight. He pushed the helping hands away. "Okay, I got it. I can walk by myself." He slowly made his way to the bathroom. McKay followed behind, carrying the scrubs. He started to make a retort about the view from the back, but didn't have the heart. Sheppard would probably just ignore him. He was missing the old Sheppard about now...and wondering about the chances of getting him back.

Sheppard set the water temperature as hot as he could take it. The water felt so good on his sore, aching muscles. He thought he could feel them unwinding a bit. It would be so easy just to stand in the hot spray for a while.

"Major, are you okay?"

"I'm fine McKay. Just give me a few minutes."

Sheppard closed his eyes and let the hot water wash across his face. It seemed like only a minute or two later when McKay called to him again. "Major?"

"McKay, give it a rest! I'm just taking a shower! I don't need you to be my mother." He was just so tired.

"Well, major, perhaps you didn't notice, but you are so weak you can barely stand up and I've been assigned the task of getting you safely in and out of the shower. If you would say something...or at least grunt ever once in a while, I wouldn't have to keep asking you if you are okay. You know, you might think about someone else..."

The water shut off and suddenly it seemed like McKay was shouting. A hand snaked out of the shower and McKay placed a towel in it. "Oh...sorry. Let me know if you need anything."

Sheppard stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around him and McKay turned around and pretended to study the markings on the wall by the door. He heard Sheppard starting to pant tiredly behind him and was starting to get worried when Sheppard called him.

"McKay?" He turned around to see a very pale, very tired looking Sheppard sitting down. He had gotten his pants on, but the top was sitting in his lap. Without a word, McKay picked up the shirt and helped Sheppard put it on. Sheppard looked up at him, his eyelids beginning to droop.

"Thanks," he said softly, breathing a little too hard for the amount of exertion that should have been.

"No problem. Let's get you back to bed." Sheppard nodded and McKay helped him up. They slowly made their way toward the bed, with McKay noticing that Sheppard leaned on him more and more. By the time they were halfway back to the bed, McKay was supporting most of Sheppard's weight. McKay was beginning to huff and puff and get worried when Beckett saw them struggling and came to the rescue. He quickly moved to Sheppard's other side and took half the weight off McKay. The two of them easily got Sheppard back to bed. McKay noticed that someone had changed the bedding while they were gone. They barely got the major laid back down and covered up before he closed his eyes.

"Carson?" asked McKay, looking concerned.

"He's okay. He's just weak. His body has been through quite a trauma and it'll take him a while to recover. It took almost two weeks to get him into this shape. It'll take at least that long, and probably longer, for him to get his strength back. Just give him time."

McKay nodded. He could do that. He just hoped the major remembered that he was not a patient man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Teyla, McKay, and Ford sat around a table in the mess hall, eating their lunch. "I'm just saying," said Ford, "that he seems too quiet. He's...different...distant. He just seems kind of detached, like he's not really feeling anything any more. I think there's something wrong."

McKay nodded. "You know, you're right. I've noticed that too. I insult him and he just ignores me. It's quite boring, actually. I miss the old Sheppard and we need to find a way to get him back." He peered at Ford's plate. "Are you going to eat that?" Ford just pushed the plate toward him and shook his head. McKay began scraping the uneaten food into his own plate.

Teyla raised one eyebrow as she watched the exchange. "Do you not think that the major just needs some time to heal? He has been through some trying and painful times recently."

McKay paused and looked thoughtful. "How much time do you think he needs?"

"Dr. McKay?" They looked up to see Kavanagh standing beside the table. "I was just wondering how Major Sheppard was? I've heard he's doing much better."

McKay looked annoyed and glanced back down at his food to avoid eye contact with the scientist. "Dr. Kavanagh...I guess I'm suprised to ...see you." (What he had wanted to say was suprised you care enough to ask, but he thought better of it at the last minute). "The major is doing...well. I think he'll be released in the next couple of days."

"That really is good to hear. I'm glad it worked out well and I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. Well, excuse me and I'll let you get back to your meal." Kavanagh smiled and walked out of the mess hall.

McKay stared after Kavanagh long after he was gone. Teyla noticed. "Is there something wrong, Dr. McKay?"

"I don't know. Why was he asking? We all know he doesn't even like the major. What's he up to?" McKay was starting to get a really bad feeling.

Kavanagh walked down the corridor, excited with the news of the major's recovery and impending release. He'd thought of another question he wanted answered, but there was no way to get to Sheppard in the infirmary. They had someone watching him twenty-four seven. He could wait another day or two for the third and last phase of his experiment.

TBC

I'm telling you - I really can't help it. It's a compulsion. I'll _try_ to get the next chapter out tomorrow (no promises).


	10. Chapter 10

TheNaggingCube - I love the parts in the gate idea for Kavanagh. Mind if I use that?

drufan - I think McKay heard you!

elemental-sparky - I'm sorry about your essay. I hope it was worth it. I know how you feel - I'm easily distracted by fanfiction as well. I was almost late for work this morning reading a newly posted chapter of one of my many alert stories.

Espiritu - thank goodness you really got chapter 3 up. I just about lost what was left of my mind.

SayntJimmy - Yes, it's true - I am very sick. And if you think that now, you might want to skip this chapter. I got a little rough.

rogue1503 - I am terribly sorry to have caused you that awful trip to the hospital, but you might want to keep the ambulance warmed up until this chapter is over. I may have gotten a little carried away...and maybe you guys will carry me away after this (hope not). By the way - am loving new chapters of 'In the Still of the Night', so read quickly and go back to work. I want more.

Thank you to everyone else who left a review. It's really hard to teach and lurk by the computer watching for reviews between classes, but somehow I'm managing. I am so very addicted to this! I probably need help - but I sure don't want it. Read on and I hope I didn't push too hard this chapter. Just something weird I had in my sick little mind to do. Let me know if it's too much (but without a lynching party).

Chapter 10

Sheppard sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. Beckett was going over his chart with a fine-toothed comb. "Well, major, everything looks good. How are the muscle tremors?"

"Better. They still come and go, but fewer and farther apart. They never last longer that a few seconds any more."

Beckett eyed him critically, trying to determine if what he was hearing was the truth or the scaled down, let me tell you what you want to hear version that Sheppard was famous for. "What about the cramps?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Last one was...three days ago."

He was worried about Sheppard...but not physically. Sheppard had never once asked him when he would get out of the infirmary. It had been almost two weeks since he woke up and he had never seemed anxious to leave...never tried to escape.. Come to think of it, he'd never shown much emotion of any kind...except for his eyes. If you looked closely...you could see the fear. And that was what Sheppard was trying to hide. He didn't want to release him, and yet there was no reason to keep him.

"All right, major. You can go as soon as you get changed. I want daily checks for a couple of days, until I see how you're doing. Let me know if the tremors get worse or the cramps come back." Sheppard nodded and moved to pick up the clothes that Ford had brought him. Beckett closed the curtain behind him as he left.

Two days later, Sheppard was heading out to the balcony. He wasn't back on active duty yet, but he had a meeting in a little while to discuss what had happened and try to figure out who was responsible. He hadn't actually been invited to the meeting. He'd found out about it by accident...McKay had inadvertently spilled the beans at breakfast. It seems Elizabeth hadn't told him about it in an effort to protect him. He didn't relish talking about it, but he wanted this solved and solved soon. If they caught the person responsible, maybe the fear would let go of his gut and he could actually sleep at night. Beckett would kill him if he knew how much trouble he'd had sleeping or how many times he'd gotten up to lose his lunch. Beckett was already on him about gaining back the weight he'd lost in the infirmary. If he didn't get a grip soon, Beckett would slap him back in bed. He hadn't cared that much about getting out, but now that he was out, he didn't want to go back. Too many memories for now. He shivered.

Lost in thought as he rounded the corner, he collided with Dr. Kavanagh. They shuffled around and grabbed at one another to keep from falling. Finally, both men regained their footing. "Excuse me, Dr. Kavanagh."

"That's quite all right, major. My fault too. I'm glad to see you up and looking well." Kavanagh smiled at Sheppard.

"Thanks. It's...good to be up." Sheppard was amazed the man didn't chew him out.

"Well, I'd better go. Experiments and such." Kavanagh walked down the hall, leaving Sheppard wondering what had just happened.

Sheppard continued out onto the balcony, breathing in the ocean air as he stepped outside. He laid his arms on the railing and leaned against it, enjoying the cool breeze and the sound of the waves crashing below. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension stiffening the muscles beneath his hand. He was amazed at how sore he still was and how easily he tired. He wanted to start his morning runs again, but he just didn't have enough energy. He'd taken to trying to have longer and longer walks so he could build up enough strength for running. Beckett had assured him it would come in time and encouraged him not to rush it. He stepped back and laid his head on his hands, closing his eyes and trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. He felt like he was in such a fog these days.

He startled at a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw Elizabeth, worry on her face. "John?"

He straightened up as he said, "Since when have you been so good at stealth mode? Maybe we should take you with us on some missions."

Elizabeth smiled, realizing he was okay. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was being so quiet. Or maybe you were just lost in thought...that, or asleep."

"Hey, I was not asleep. I was just enjoying the peace and quiet. Sometimes that's hard to find around here."

She nodded in understanding. That was one reason she visited the balcony so often herself. The other reason was standing in front of her, the breeze blowing his hair back off his forehead. She noticed that he still looked tired, especially around his eyes.

Sheppard, seeing her expression, decided it was time to head the impending conversation in a different direction. "So, are you okay with me crashing the meeting today?"

"Well, I'm not sure it's a good idea. I still think you need some more time to recuperate...you're not back on active duty yet. Actually, you haven't even been cleared for light duy. As I recall, you are supposed to be resting in your quarters. This, my dear major, is not what I call resting in your quarters." She arched one eyebrow at him in her best mock expression of reprimand.

"Cabin fever. That's my story and I'm sticking to it." He gave her his patented lop-sided grin that had been missing for weeks now. She thought maybe her heart had taken wings. A glint of the old John was starting to come through and she planned on grabbing it with both hands and yanking.

"And you're thinking Carson will buy this cabin fever thing?"

"He doesn't have to if no one tells on me. So...are you snitching or not?" He was still grinning and she was finding it harder and harder to answer. She couldn't figure out why she had to work so hard to get her mouth to form words. _Get a grip,_ she thought to herself.

"I'll make you a deal. I won't tell Carson anything if you'll tell me who leaked the meeting to you."

No wonder she was their negotiator. She knew how to drive a hard bargain. Sorry, McKay. It wasn't like she couldn't figure it out anyway. Who else would have told him? "Think about it for three seconds and you'll know."

"Rodney?" She had known before she asked him. But the game was half the fun, wasn't it?

"Good. And it didn't even take you three seconds."

"You know, Carson's not a blind man. He'll see you sitting at the table with the rest of us."

Sheppard nodded. "I know. I acually told him this morning when I went for my check that I was going. He wasn't overly happy about it, but he understood. He said it might help me deal with it and move on." He smiled again. "Of course, I was supposed to go straight back to my quarters and rest, but ...I just needed some time out here first. It helps...clear my head. It's relaxing."

Elizabeth placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed gently. "How are you **really**? I know you hate it when I ask, but you look...tired. I'm worried you're trying to do too much."

"I'm coping. I'm still sore and I do get tired easily. But I'm not overdoing it. I rest several times a day, but I'm trying to build my strength back up. You can't do that lying in bed all day. I take a walk, then I rest. It's slow...but I'm getting there."

"Are you sleeping at night?"

Man, she knew how to get right down to it. He hesitated too long, trying to decide how to answer. And that gave her the answer she needed.

"Does Carson know you're not sleeping?'

"Hey, I didn't say I wasn't sleeping!" he snapped. His face flushed with anger, catching her off guard. "Look, I had a bad couple of weeks and now it's over. Everyone's so worried about me moving on. How can I when no one else around here seems to be able to. How long is everyone going to tip toe around me like they're walking on egg shells. I just want things to get back to normal so I can forget this whole stupid mess. Why is that so much to ask?" With that, he stormed off.

Elizabeth figured if you could slam the doors of Atlantis, he would have ripped that one off the hinges. _Good job, Elizabeth. Way to piss him off. _She leaned against the rail and gazed out into ocean, wondering where the conversation had gone so horribly wrong.

Sheppard walked briskly into his quarters, clenching and unclenching his fists and breathing heavily. As the door closed behind him, he paced around the room several times, trying to diffuse his anger. As he started to calm down a bit, he thought back on their conversation. How could he have blown up like that? She asked a simple question out of concern and he practically took her head off. She had to think he was nuts. _Way to go Sheppard. Let's convince everyone you've lost you mind so they can lock you away in a padded cell somewhere. _Suddenly, he took his arm and brushed everything that had been on his desk into the floor, violently slinging things every direction. He heard the sound of breaking glass, but didn't care what it was. He just felt so...STUPID. There was no other way to describe what he'd just done.

His back to the wall, he let himself slide down to the floor and rested his head on his knees. "Come on Shep, you can do this. You have got to pull yourself together. Today would be nice. Like, before you make a babbling fool of yourself at this meeting." He felt his stomach starting to roll and swallowed hard. He had to quit doing this. It was over, so why did he keep coming apart at the seams? He would think he had it together and then...well...something like today. Slowly, he got to his feet. He needed to head to the meeting early. He had a stop to make on the way. He definitely owed someone an apology...a really big apology.

McKay paced back and forth in his lab. He knew, without a doubt, that Kavanagh was mixed up in this somehow. It was all too coincidental. It had to have something to do with that stupid hand-warming rock of his. That was the only thing he hadn't really investigated from the first time Sheppard got sick. He'd taken Kavanagh's word that is was nothing. He had no idea how Kavanagh had caused the second attack, but he was still sure he was behind it. Kavanagh had been way too friendly and willing to help. He was up to something and McKay intended to find out what. He wanted to go to Elizabeth, but realized how insane it sounded to accuse Kavanagh of wrong doing because he was being nice. He'd have to have a little more evidence than that. But how?

"I can't just walk up to Kavanagh and say, 'Hey, did you poison the major?' Even he's not that stupid. There has to be something though..."

"Rodney, you are talking to self. What, will no one else listen?" Zelenka was standing in the doorway to the lab.

McKay snapped his fingers and smiled. "That's it. Radek, I need you for a covert mission. Are you up to it?"

"Must I go off world?" Zelenka asked nervously.

"No. I think you'll like this. I want you to raid Kavanagh's computer while he's in a meeting."

Zelenka rubbed his hands together and smiled. "Yes, I like so far. Why we are doing this?" Zelenka really hated Kavanagh. He always talked to him like he was stupid. Well, so did Rodney...but Rodney talked to everyone like that and, somehow, he did it in a way that encouraged friendly banter most of the time. Kavanagh just thought he was that much smarter and better than everyone around him. Very annoying man.

"I think Kavanagh's the one who's been poisoning Sheppard. If I know him, he'll have it all recorded on his laptop. He's too vain to pull off something like this withoug bragging, even if it's just to his computer. But I have to be able to prove it before I say anything, or he'll just destroy the evidence."

Zelenka's expression darkened. "He would do such a terrible thing to the major? I like the major. He is always...nice to me. And he talks back to you...I like that, too. Maybe we can just throw Kavanagh from balcony when finished. I will help. You tell me what to do."

"Oh, if he did it, throwing him from the balcony is far too good for him. I have other, much worse things in mind. Of course, most of them are illegal, but we can deal with that later. This is what I need you to do..."

Sheppard knocked softly on the door as he stepped into Elizabeth Weir's office. She looked up from her papers and he saw the hurt in her eyes. It took his breath away for a second, almost like someone had kicked him in the gut. He took a deep breath and took another step in, his right hand nervously rubbing the top of the holster hung low on his hip.

"Elizabeth...I'm...I'm sorry about earlier. I know you were just concerned. I guess...I guess this thing has me a little crazier than I thought. I ...I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." Sheppard bowed his head and looked at his shoes, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Elizabeth sighed in relief. "I'm glad you came by. It's okay, John. I was pushing too hard. I didn't mean to...I just care about you and...I guess I needed to be sure you were okay. I'm sorry for being a buttinsky."

Sheppard looked up at her, somewhat taken aback. "Did you just say...buttinsky?"

"Yes I did. Is that a problem?" Her face was perfectly serious.

"No...no, buttinsky is good. So, is that an official negotiating term?" She could see him trying not to smile.

"It is now." Then, the tensions dissolving before them, they both laughed out loud. Each thought in his own mind that there had never been so beautiful a sound. After a few minutes, they regained their composure.

"Are we good?" asked Sheppard, his eyes dancing in a way they hadn't in quite a while.

"We're good. And we'd better go or we'll be late." She picked up her folders and he held out his elbow. She hooked her arm around his and they walked down the corridor to the meeting room.

Within a few minutes, the room was full. Seated around the large table was Elizabeth, Grodin, Bates, Kavanagh, Beckett, Sheppard, McKay, Ford, and Teyla. Everyone talked noisily for several minutes. Sheppard, sitting across from Elizabeth, winked at her. She blushed and looked down at her folders, pretending not to notice and hoping no one else did either. She had noticed that Beckett had taken up a position beside Sheppard and she was certain that was not a chance seating arrangement. She knew he'd be watching him for signs of stress. Deciding to get things moving, she called the meeting to order.

McKay spoke first, telling what he knew about the morning Sheppard got sick and the subsequent search of the area where the major had been running that morning. Bates went next, giving an account of the investigation so far by the security forces. McKay already knew about all of this, so he let his mind wander. He caught himself looking at Kavanagh, wondering if the man could really hate Sheppard enough to poison him. If he did it with the stone, he had put on a good act of not knowing what the stone did. He'd take intense pleasure in interrogating the man himself if he turned out to be responsible. No one got to torture his best friend like that and get away with it. Yeah, they'd learned a lot about interrogation techniques in this galaxy and most of them were not pleasant.

He glanced at Sheppard, seated next to him. Sheppard didn't seem to be paying very much attention. That was odd, since the whole meeting was about him. He looked...strange. McKay looked down at Sheppard's hands resting on the table and noticed that one of them was trembling. He felt his stomach lurch as he looked past Sheppard to Beckett and noticed he was also watching the major with concern. Sheppard's face suddenly drained of color and he picked both hands about an inch off the table. McKay felt his stomach drop as he watched them shake violently. Please, not again.

Sheppard stumbled to his feet, panic evident in his face and his voice. "No," he whispered. Everyone had stopped to look at him and it didn't take long to figure out what was happening. He knocked the chair over backwards and almost tripped over it as he backed up to the wall. "I...can't...I can't do this again...I can't..." He looked around in panic as Beckett and McKay both moved toward him, their expressions grim. He looked across the room and made eye contact with Elizabeth on the other side of the table as she stood up.

"John?"

She thought she saw tears welling in his eyes - eyes full of terror like she'd never seen. It almost seemed like the next couple of minutes went in slow motion. Their eyes locked together, he said "I'm sorry...I can't..."

Fear gripped her like icewater suddenly flowing through her veins as she yelled, "John...no..." and tried in vain to move past the people and chairs to get to him. She saw him draw his gun and move it toward his head, never taking his eyes from hers. She thought she saw him mouth "goodbye" as the gun reached the side of his head. "Nooooo!" she screamed, just as Beckett and McKay reached him. She saw them grabbing for his arm and then...

The horrible, loud sound of the gun going off in the room threw everyone into shock. It left a strange silence in its wake, as all three men dropped immediately to the ground, completely out of her line of sight. All she was left with was the blood splattered on the wall just behind where John had been standing only seconds before.

TBC

Yes, I think I can update tomorrow. Once again, no promises. Hope I didn't go overboard on this one. I warned you in the beginning this one might be kind of dark. Yeah, I know. Understatement and all.


	11. Chapter 11

You guys are totally amazing. Two hundred reviews? This time **I** needed an ambulance and a trip to the hospital. Gasping for air! Sorry to have left you in such a bad spot (Okay, I lie. I did it on purpose because, as many of you have figured out, I am totally evil. I didn't even realize until now.) Anyway, I hope it was worth it. By the way, we used to call someone a buttinsky that stuck their nose in someone else's business. (You know - butted in).

Chapter 11

McKay tried to sit up, only to find his arms and legs tangled hopelessly with those of Beckett and Sheppard. He managed to get up on one elbow, trying to see what had happened. His ears were ringing from the close proximity of the gun shot and he was terrified to find out if it had hit the intended target. As he pulled his other hand free of whatever had pinned it, he saw blood. Cold fingers of icy fear plunged deep into his gut, twisting his insides into a painful knot. He could feel Beckett pulling himself free from the clump of legs and heard him gasp as he saw what McKay saw. The right side of Sheppard's face and head was covered in blood and a pool was forming and spreading beneath him. McKay couldn't tell how bad the damage was...all he could see was blood and hair and...

McKay rolled to his right, away from Sheppard, and vomited. He tried closing his eyes, but all he could see was Sheppard's head in the ever-widening puddle of blood. He hugged his stomach as he dry heaved until he thought his insides should be laying on the ground in front of him. He felt someone's hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He could hear Beckett barking out orders behind him, but it seemed like it was coming from another reality or another time...not here...not now. How had it ever come to this? He didn't dare turn and look again. He knew Sheppard was dead.

Once Beckett had pulled his legs free, he'd launched into action. Tapping his radio link as he crawled over to Sheppard, he called, "This is Beckett! We have a medical emergency in the conference room. I need a medical team NOW! We have a gunshop wound to the head." He placed one hand on the side of Sheppard's neck, feeling for the pulse he didn't really expect to find. He was wearing quite a bit of the major's blood. He shook his head against the loud ringing in his ears. He knew he had gotten a hand on Sheppard's forearm, but wasn't sure if it was fast enough to deflect the shot. And then he felt it. It was weak, but it was there. He was alive. At this point, Beckett wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Beckett looked carefully at the side of Sheppard's head. He was aware of activity behind him, but concentrating on the still form before him. He and McKay must have at least partially deflected the bullet, because the wound seemed to travel the whole side of Sheppard's head as opposed to being a simple entry wound. That meant Sheppard might have a chance of avoiding major brain damage if the bullet had not penetrated the skull. He wouldn't know that until he got him back to the infirmary. Where was the medical team?

Elizabeth had finally made it around the table about the time McKay vomited on the conference room floor. When she saw John, she almost lost it herself. She quickly turned away and leaned against the table, closing her eyes against the realization that he was probably gone. She felt as if something had sucked the breath from her lungs and she wasn't sure she could get it back. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.

"I've got a weak pulse. He's alive." Beckett's words brought looks of amazement from almost everyone. The thought that Sheppard was dead had pretty much been a universal one. The medical team raced in with the gurney and several pieces of equipment in tow. Beckett and his staff immediately began prepping Sheppard for transfer to the infirmary. Within a few minutes they were moving him. His head hidden by bloody bandages, an IV in place, and the heart monitor beeping, somewhat quickly and irradically, they began the race to the infirmary. Weir looked at Peter, no longer trying to stop the flow of tears streaming down her face.

"Go," he said. "I'll tend to things here."

She nodded gratefully and fell in beside Rodney. following Beckett to the infirmary. Peter just stood for several minutes, looking at the blood splattered on the wall and pooled on the floor. He wasn't sure anyone would ever be able to concentrate on a meeting in here again. And it wasn't the blood stains he was worried about.

Rodney watched the team of people surrounding Sheppard work. Or, rather, he watched their backs. He couldn't actually see Sheppard with all the people and machinery around him. Maybe that was a good thing. Beckett kept barking out orders for drugs and tests and procedures. Nurses kept feeding him numbers that meant nothing to McKay except that the major must still be alive or there wouldn't be any numbers to report. He watched in morbid fascination the things that kept hitting the floor. Bloody bandages, empty medical supplies packaging, and bits of clothing. He saw as part of Sheppard's shirt, bloody and cut from his body, hit the floor beside the gurney. Then the other half of the shirt. He thought he might have seen a couple of drops of blood splatter from the saturated clothing as it plummeted into the hard, cold surface. Another flurry of activity and then at least part of Sheppard's pants hit the floor, a few feet from the other discarded items of clothing. As the pants hit the floor, something flew out of one pocket and skittered across the smooth floor towards Rodney. It stopped a few feet away, spinning slightly as it came to rest. A small turquoise stone with gold and black flecks. Rodney almost fainted.

"Oh my God!..Radek!" In a panic, Rodney reached for the stone while contacting Radek on his radio. "Radek, where are you?"

"Rodney, what's going on?" asked Weir. Rodney waved her away.

"I am in Kavanagh's lab on his computer. You were right...it is all here, that bastard." Zelenka started muttering something in Czech until he was interrupted by McKay.

"Listen, something's happened. Kavanagh's probably on his way there right now. Get the computer and get out as fast as you can. Bring it to the infirmary."

"Right!" responded Zelenka. Before he could click off his radio, he heard something behind him. He felt a shiver of fear run down the length of his spine as he turned around. Kavanagh was standing in the doorway and he didn't look very happy.

"Dr. Zelenka, what are you doing in my lab?"

McKay heard the exchange. "We're coming, Radek. Stall him," he whispered. He turned to Elizabeth. "Short version is Kavanagh is behind poisoning the major. Radek has the proof on his computer in his lab, but Kavanagh just got there and caught him. We have to get down there now."

Weir nodded, the expedition leader in her taking over and shoving the fear and worry to the back burner. "Sgt. Bates? I need a security detail to Dr. Kavanagh's lab as soon as possible. He's responsible for Sheppard's poisoning and we think Dr. Zelenka may be with him and in danger."

"Roger that, Dr. Weir. We're on our way."

"You stay here with John, Elizabeth. I have to go see about Radek. I'm the one who sent him down there...I need to make sure he's okay. I'll be back to explain." He reached onto one of the shelves of medical supplies and grabbed a gauze pad. Wrapping the stone in it, he headed out the door. He paused briefly over the threshold, looking back toward where they were still working on Sheppard. _I'll get him, John, _he thought. And then he was gone.

Kavanagh was getting red in the face as he approached Zelenka. Zelenka had run out of things to say to make small talk and pitiful excuses as to why he was in the lab. Kavanagh wasn't buying any of it and Zelenka just kept thinking about how dangerous anyone was who do this to the major. He certainly wouldn't hesitate to do harm to a little Czech scientist he saw as stupid and annoying. Zelenka was starting to sweat.

"You know, I think Rodney is on way to speak to you...something about Major Sheppard. We should wait."

"No one is on the way. And you have no right to be in my lab...is that my laptop behind you? You better not have ruined any of the data from my experiments. I'll..."

"You'll what?" asked McKay from behind him. Zelenka breathed an obvious sigh of relief. Kavanagh turned to give a sarcastic retort, but stopped himself when he saw five guns pointed at him. The smile he had been wearing slowly dissolved into confusion.

"Now...wait guys...What's going on?"

Ford made a show of aiming his gun at Kavanagh. "We're here to take you into custody for poisoning Major Sheppard. Back away from Dr. Zelenka. Men, if he resists...shoot to kill."

All the color drained from Kavanagh's face. He held his hands up defensively. "I'm...I'm not going to resist. It's all a mistake. I can...I can clear this right up. Just let me explain. It was just an experiment."

Zelenka quickly grabbed the laptop and moved behind the soldiers, closer to McKay. He nodded his thanks.

"You can explain later. Right now you're going to the holding cell." stated Bates. "Now move. And after what you've done to Sheppard, you better not even twitch without permission or we'll shoot you where you stand."

McKay could feel the fury building within him, threatening to explode out his head. He kept seeing Sheppard on the floor...blood everywhere. He had been so sure he was dead. As Kavanagh started to walk past him, that patent smug expression on his face, McKay lost it. He grabbed Kavanagh by the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall so hard his head bounced off with a thud. "You tell me WHY!" He loosened his grip only to slam Kavanagh against the wall again, this time so hard he knocked his glasses off.

"Quit it McKay! You can't just stand there and let him do this!" he shouted in protest.

"Do what? I didn't see Dr. McKay do anything," said Bates innocently. He turned to Ford and the other soldiers. "Did you guys see anything?"

"Well," said Ford. "I think Dr. Kavanagh might be giving us a hard time. Sometimes when you resist, you get a little roughed up." Bates nodded in agreement.

"You tell me why and you tell me now." McKay was talking through teeth clenched in anger. He had to resist the urge to just kill Kavanagh now.

"Look McKay. As a scientist, you should understand. It was just an experiment. No one was supposed to get hurt. I honestly didn't know what the stone did. It was just a test. You have Sheppard turn stuff on all the time and sometimes he gets hurt doing it. I haven't seen anyone throw you ina cellbecause of it. This is so unfair."

"When he's hurt turning stuff on for me, I quit. You just kept going after him. Didn't you see what it was doing to him? Even if it had been a legitimate experiment, you should have stopped. You went after him twice knowing the pain it had caused."

"It's just a little pain. He wasn't really sick or dying or anything. Soldiers are trained to take pain. It's kind of like it was part of his job. How was I supposed to know he was unstable and would try to kill himself? Not my fault."

McKay couldn't believe what he was hearing. A **little** pain? Unstable? "Kavanagh, you're the biggest moron I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. Did you ever bother to go see what kind of hell you were putting him through? It was a lot more than a LITTLE pain. Try agony for the better part of ten days straight, twenty -four hours a day. If I could find a way of making you suffer through this like he did, I would. As it is..." He had to satisfy himself with slamming Kavanagh against the wall one last time before they hauled him off, whining about his head hurting.

Rodney looked down at his hands. They were shaking so hard he figured he looked like someone in the advanced stages of palsy. "I think you better carry the computer, Radek. I don't want to drop the evidence. Let's head for the infimary so we can show Elizabeth."

Zelenka nodded. "Did something happen to major?"

"Yeah, something..." replied McKay tiredly. "Come on and I'll fill you in."

They arrived at the infirmary a few minutes later to find Elizabeth sitting in a chair with her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap as she stared blankly into space. McKay looked beyond her to where they had been working on Sheppard earlier. Only one nurse remained, slowly picking up the materials he had so intently watched being discarded just a short while before.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, fear in his voice.

She stood up, just now noticing she was no longer alone. "It's okay, Rodney. They're stitching him up. Apparently one or both of you got to him in time. The bullet skimmed along the side of his skull, but never actually penetrated. Carson said there's some deep tissue damage, but it should heal. He does have a severe concussion and possible a brain contusion. He's not totally out of the woods...but he's not dead and he's not..." She didn't have to say it. They both knew what she meant. When Carson had first stated Sheppard was alive, they thought he meant alive with a bullet in his brain...which wasn't really alive at all. Elizabeth shuddered and sat down heavily. afraid she might fall if she didn't.

"What about the toxin?"

"Blood work is still pending. It should be up soon, though. Carson said his vitals are all over the place and they were having a lot of trouble stabilizing him...more than you would expect with just the head wound. It's a good bet the toxin levels are up again. Now tell me what happened."

Zelenka spoke up. "We can do better. We can show you." He turned on Kavanagh's computer to show them what he had found.

TBC

Better?


	12. Chapter 12

You guys know how to make my heart sing...and it's been singing a lot lately. I have no idea why people take drugs because this has GOT to be sooooooooo much better.

I'm sorry the update is running late. The whole lack of sleep while fighting a cold thing finally nailed me and I just could not stay awake. I promise to add a chapter as soon as possible. I'm kind of afraid not to.

Chapter 12

Weir, McKay, and Zelenka all sat back in their chairs in one fluid motion as they finished reading the last of Kavanagh's reports, recorded just minutes before the meeting in the conference room...just minutes before they watched John Sheppard shoot himself in the head in a panicked attempt to avoid "phase three". Weir closed her eyes and wiped the tears that threatened to overflow her lower eyelids onto her cheeks. "How...how can anyone...be that ...callus? Lab rats get more humane treatment than what he was willing to give John. How do you ...convince yourself...that something like this is okay?"

McKay just sat, staring into space. Weir and Zelenka could both see the fury building in his face. Suddenly, he jumped from his chair and headed for the door.

"Rodney, where are you going?" Weir was on her feet and after him in a flash. She almost had to run to catch him in the hall and grab his arm, tugging him back in order to stop him. "Rodney?"

He turned to face her, his face flushed in anger that seemed to radiate up from deep within. He thought he had a pretty good idea of what a volcano felt like just before it blew...and he was about to blow. "I"m going to kill him Elizabeth. **Anyone** who would do something like this doesn't deserve to live."

"Rodney, you can't. It's not going to help John and it will end up ruining you. You're not a killer, Rodney. You may think this will make you feel better, but then you have to live with it for the rest of your life. You know as well as I do that it would eat at you...destroy you. You can't do this. John wouldn't want you to do this. Kavanagh will pay for this...but not now. We have to put some distance between this and him or we'll do something we'll end up regretting for the rest of our lives. He's not going anywhere. Let him sweat it out for a while and we'll decide something later." Her eyes pleaded with him to listen to her.

"Dr. Weir is right, Rodney. Besides...there are things worse than death. We have lots of time." McKay hadn't even seen Zelenka come up, but he recognized the wisdom in the man's words. They saw a glimmer of a small smile.

"Yeah...time and things worse than death. I can live with that." Rodney looked back at Weir. "Okay...you win."

Weir smiled in relief and they returned to the infirmary just in time to meet Beckett. Weir stepped forward quickly. "Carson, how is he?"

Beckett motioned towards the chairs. "Have a seat and let's talk" None of them liked the serious expression on his face. All four sat down, facing one another in a semicircle. Beckett seemed to be trying to find a place to begin. "It took quite a few stitches to put him back together. He'll probably have some scarring, but I think most of it will be hidden by his hair...except the area around the temple. As I told Elizabeth earlier, the bullet basically skimmed along the surface of the skull without penetrating it, so there is no direct brain injury. The CT scan, however, does show a rather nasty brain contusion...or bruising. We'll have to watch his intracranial pressure. If there's too much swelling...we may have to take him to surgery. I'm hopeful that won't be necessary. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure he'd survive in his present condition."

"What about the toxin? Do you have the blood results back yet?" inquired McKay.

"Aye, I have them...and it's not good. The blood levels of the toxin are much higher than either of the two previous times. And there lies our other problem. He's already having trouble breathin'. He's not even conscious yet, and his body is shakin' like a leaf in a hurricane. I'm afraid this time is goin' to be much worse...and he's weak from his previous encounters and totin' a nasty head wound to boot."

"When you say worse...do you mean the tremors...or the pain...what?" asked Weir, fear beginning to build on her face.

Carson sighed deeply. "All of it, lass. The pain, the shaking, the tremors...as well as other physical effects. Like I said, he's having trouble breathin' already. That's goin' to get worse as the diaphragm is more and more involved. His heartbeat is still irregular and I'm afraid we may problems in that area as well. And he's less equipped to handle any of it physically or mentally. It's going to be a rough ride. Before, we were trying to help him work through the pain until the toxin was out of his system. This time around, our first priority is going to be keeping him alive."

"What can we do?" asked Elizabeth.

"Nothing right now. In a few days, hopefully, the critical symptons will be over and then we'll be back to pain management. It would be helpful, at that point, if you could do like you did last time. Sit with him and talk to him...let him know you're there. For right now, he's unconscious. At this point, that's probably not a bad thing." He paused as they nodded. "Have you figured out anything about how this happened?"

"Oh, yeah," said McKay in disgust. "We now know exactly what happened. Kavanagh." McKay reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of gauze. He unwrapped it to reveal the small blue stone.

"A bloody rock?" asked Beckett, the disbelief evident in his voice.

McKay nodded. "Kavanagh apparently discovered some kind of a...hidden lab when he was helping investigate a new area of the city a few weeks ago. In that lab, he found this rock...and some ancient writings. He was having some trouble translating the writing at first, so he really didn't know what the rock did when he got the major to hold it that first time. He did, apparently, suspect that it's purpose was...shall we say, somewhat sinister at best. The people working in the lab were trying to take over Atlantis from the current leaders. They were working on a way to incapacitate the leaders without actually killing them. They thought if they could make them sick enough, it would give them time to take over while not actually raising suspicions against them."

"So, even if he didn't know what the stone did, he at least knew it was something bad," said Beckett.

McKay nodded. "He looked at this whole thing as an experiment. That's actually how it's recorded on his computer. The Ancient Stone/Sheppard Experiment, parts 1, 2, and 3. He's recorded how he exposed the major and the effects of each exposure...well, up til the last one. The first time he just marched into my lab and had Sheppard hold it...that was the morning he got sick." McKay hesitated, looking down at the floor and remembering Sheppard getting sick in the mess hall that day. It seemed like an eternity ago...or at least another lifetime. If only he'd seen what was happening then, he could have saved his friend so much pain. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. He felt a hand on his arm and opened his eyes.

"This wasn't your fault, Rodney," said Beckett softly.

"I should have figured this out weeks ago. It was so obvious and I just couldn't ...see it."

"Carson's right, Rodney. There is no reason you should have figured this out any sooner. The point is, you did, and we can make sure Kavanagh doesn't hurt anyone ever again," added Weir.

"How does the rock work?" asked Carson, trying to distract McKay.

"Well, apparently it's only activated by a very strong ancient gene. Kavanagh's research into the ancient text seems to indicate there may be different...forms of the gene. Most of the people in leadership roles seemed to have a very strong, aggressive form of the gene. The stone was designed to respond especially to them. It might react to others with the gene, but it would take a lot longer. When activated, the stone warms and releases the toxin, which is absorbed readily through the skin. Sheppard reported the stone getting warm the time he held it in the lab."

"How did he get exposed the second time? Kavanagh never came near the infirmary."

"Oh, but yes he did. He watched from the hall until the major was alone and snuck in in the middle of the night. He apparently wanted to know if the stone worked when someone was unconscious. So he stuck it in the major's hand while he was asleep and then snuck back out."

"So the answer to that question was a definite yes. What happened this last time?"

"Well, our mad scientist decided he needed to know if direct skin contact was needed. He was also interested in time of indirect contact and cummulative effects. He purposely 'ran into' the major in the hall and slipped our little colored rock into his pocket. The stone was there for at least a couple of hours before the meeting. I guess if the contact is long enough, it can go through clothing."

"Quite effectively, I'd say. It gave the major a massive dose from the looks of his bloodwork."

They all sat silently for a few minutes, trying to free their minds of the worry that was weighing them down. McKay finally looked up at Beckett. "Can we see him?"

Beckett's immediate thought was no. But McKay and Weir both looked so hopeful. He knew their last sight of him was like seeing a dead man. They needed to see that he was still alive. "Okay, but only for a moment." He stood and guided them back to the major's bed.

Most of the top of Sheppard's head was covered in bandages and an oxygen mask covered the front of his face. The ever-present IV line was hooked up, as well as the heart monitor. Sheppard was very pale, but definitely not still. Violent muscle tremors and spasms raced through his body, making him shake so badly the bed rattled, almost drowning out the sound of the heart monitor. Fortunately, he seemed to be unconscious and oblivious to it all.

Weir gasped and brought her hand up to her mouth. "How long...how long do you think he'll be unconscious?" she asked Beckett.

"I don't know. I'm hoping at least until tomorrow. Once he wakes up, we're really going to have our work cut out for us."

McKay, never taking his eyes off Sheppard, asked Weir, "Elizabeth...now can I kill Kavanagh?"

McKay left the infirmary at noon the next day. Beckett has finally given in and let him sit with the major. Sheppard's condition was about the same and McKay was driving everyone crazy pacing around and asking questions. Beckett had thrown him out for a few hours, telling him to go lay down and get some sleep. But he didn't head for his quarters. He headed for the holding cell. It was time to visit Kavanagh.

McKay entered the room to find Kavanagh in the small cell and two marines posted at the door. He nodded to them as he came in. "I just need to talk to Dr. Kavanagh for a minute."

"Fine, Dr. McKay. How's the major today?" The marine showed genuine concern on his face. He wasn't just asking to be polite...he actually cared. That said a lot about Sheppard's leadership abilities.

"About the same. Dr. Beckett says he's holding his own." The marine nodded as McKay turned away and walked to the edge of the cell. Kavanagh sat on the edge of the small bed in the cell. "I want to know how you can treat another human being that way? I've seen abused animals get more respect and consideration that what you gave Sheppard." McKay's voice had started to rise as the anger once again began building inside.

"It was just an experiment, McKay. I told you. He wasn't actually supposed to get hurt. He already needed a padded cell or he wouldn't have gone off the deep end like that. This is not my fault."

McKay clenched his fist. "Are really that stupid or do you just think I am? Or maybe you're just a heartless, gutless, self-centered bastard."

Kavanagh shrugged his shoulders. "Wait until I talk to the people in charge on earth. I'll have all of you shipped home so fast, your head will spin. None of you are fit to be here." He smiled smugly.

McKay just stood looking at him for several minutes. As the silent minutes ticked by, Kavanagh's smile faded away and he began to get nervous. Finally,McKay turned to one of the marines. "Can you open the cell a second? I need to give Kavanagh something."

The soldiers looked at one another and then back to McKay. "Uh, sir...I'm not really supposed to lower the shield."

"Look, I promise it won't get you in trouble. You have to know that there's no way I'd help him."

"Well, since it's you...I guess just for a second." He lowered the shield and McKay stepped into the cell and walked over to Kavanagh. Kavanagh stood up.

"Well, what did you need to give me?" McKay looked at him for a second like he was looking at a dead bug on the bottom of his shoe. And then he hit Kavanagh in the jaw so hard he fell back on his bed and did a flip over the back of it, landing with a resounding thud in the floor."

"Tsk! Tsk! Kavanagh, you really should be more careful. I didn't realize you were accident prone." McKay turned around and walked out of the cell to find the two marines staring at him in shock. "Snap to it man. Get that force field back up. You don't want me telling the major you were asleep on the job." He immediately turned on the force field as McKay strolled out of the room. As soon as he got to the hall, he began shaking and rubbing his hand. Wow! That hurt, but it sure felt good.

Beckett sat in his office, picking at the tray of food his staff had brought him for supper, insisting he should follow his own advice and eat a decent meal. He though of all the times Sheppard and McKay had sat in their bed in the infirmary, picking at their food much like he was, while complaining that they weren't hungry. He really just wasn't hungry. Maybe he would have more sympathy for that point of view in the future. No. Not a chance. He finally gave up and decided to go check on his most frequent patient.

Sheppard was really starting to thrash around in the bed. It wasn't just the shaking like before. He was starting to roll from side to side and curl up in a fetal position. Beckett sighed heavily. That meant he was regaining consciousness on some level and was starting to feel the pain. He had hoped to make it a little longer, but it wasn't to be. He glanced at the heart monitor and was disturbed to find the major's heartbeat faster than before and the pattern slightly more irregular. He had a feeling the next day or two would be very difficult for everyone.

"I wish I could give you something for the pain, Major. But your vitals are all over the place, I don't dare. Just try to hang on, son. We'll get you through this." He was standing there lost in thought, when McKay and Weir walked up and stood beside him.

"Any change?" asked Rodney. He looked down and noticed the agitated movements of Sheppard. "He's not...is he conscious?"

"He doesn't seem to be fully conscious yet...but he does seem to be waking up on some level. Judging from his movements, I'm afraid he's becoming aware of the pain and responding to it. I'm afraid the added stress of trying to deal with the pain may make his condition even worse. I...Rodney, what happened to your hand?"

McKay looked absently at the back of his right hand. "Gee, I must have accidently his something. How could that have happened?" he said in mock dismay.

Beckett frowned. "I don't suppose the something was named Kavanagh, was it?"

"Rodney!" exclaimed Weir. "I thought we decided not to do anything about him yet."

McKay looked indignant. "I just wanted to talk to him a minute. I had a...muscle tremor and it tremored into his face. He's all right. I didn't actually hurt him."

Beckett shook his head. "Well, come with me, then, and let me look at your hand. Looks like I might need to tidy up those scrapes. I wouldn't want ya catchin' anythin' from Kavanagh." Beckett led McKay away to take care of his hand. Weir heard McKay asking questions as they walked.

"You don't really think I might catch something, do you? Oh no! What about infection? That place is so dark and I know it's not clean. There's no telling what's living down there."

The pain began ebbing in like the tide, surging forward with a force that took his breath away. Then, when he thought he couldn't take it another minute, it would slowly roll back out. John was not consciously aware of his surroundings. There was no processing of the sounds around him or memories of what happened. Just the pain rolling across his body in wave after wave after wave. The pain was familiar and he felt he knew it well. He hated it and what it did to him...and yet he had to embrace it in order to ride the wave through it. It seemed that this was all there had been and all there would be...just the blinding, white hot pain that clenched his muscles tight and made him want to scream. Then there was the new pain. His head seemed to be throbbing and burning at the same time. He had no idea why, although he thought he should probably know. Too tired and too much pain to think. Just try to move with the pain and keep it at bay...ride it from wave to wave. He knew he couldn't do this much longer. He was weakening...soon he would be too tired to fight. Very soon.

Nick walked into the infirmary to see Beckett and McKay headed his way. McKay was checking out the bandages on his right hand. "Hey, what happened Dr. McKay?"

"Not much. My hand accidently slammed into Dr. Kavanagh's face," replied McKay, as if that were an everyday occurrence.

Nick arched an eyebrow at Beckett. "You know, you miss a lot when you work nights. I may have to speak to you about my hours."

Beckett just shook his head. "Not a chance, doctor. You're the one person I can trust to handle this place at night. I'll fill you in later."

"Carson!" All three of them jumped at the shrill tone of Elizabeth's voice, knowing immediately that it couldn't be anything good. They ran to join her at Sheppard's bed. McKay stopped several feet short of the bed when he saw Sheppard's arms and legs flailing wildly, pulling out the IV and rolling the covers up.

"He's having a seizure!" yelled Carson. Elizabeth and Rodney moved back as two nurses joined Carson and Nick. Elizabeth found she could scarcely breathe throughout the ordeal, which seemed to go on forever. When it was finally over and the violent, jerky movements had slowed back to the steady shaking that had become normal for John Sheppard, she let out a deep breath.

"He's stopped breathing, We'll have to intubate." Carson's voice hit her like a slap in the face. She backed up to the bed behind her so she could perch on the end. She looked over at Rodney to see that all color had drained from his face as he watched them put a tube down Sheppard's throat and hook it to the ventilator. She could hear Carson and Nick giving orders, exchanging information, and discussing the major's condition, but she felt as if the voices were fading into the background with the whoosh of the ventilator and the irregular beeping of the heart monitor.

"Carson, he's going into ventricular fibrillation! We need a crash cart NOW!" One of the nurses quickly rolled a cart up to the bed and Nick began charging the machine and preparing the defibrillator paddles. Squeezing the gel onto the paddle surface, he rubbed them together and handed them to Carson. Carson and the other nurse had already pulled Sheppard's gown back to reveal his chest.

"Ready!" said Nick.

"Clear!" yelled Carson as he placed the paddles on Sheppard's chest and released the charge. Sheppard's upper body arched up off the bed. All eyes turned to the monitor, which revealed that the irradically squiggled line from before had been changed to one that was almost flat. "Again!"

Beckett shocked Sheppard two more times with the same results. There was a brief pause while Beckett barked orders out to the nurses and then took a rather large syringe and plunged the contents into Sheppard's chest. Then they charged the defibrillator again. Neither McKay nor Weir missed the worried expressions on the faces of the two doctors working frantically to save the major's life.

Elizabeth walked into the room with the holding cell containing Kavanagh. She stood silently in front of the cell, watching Kavanagh eye her from inside the cell. His left eye was bruised and swollen almost shut.

"So, did you come down here to slug me too?" he asked. She didn't answer. He noticed that her face was red and her eyes looked swollen, as if she'd been crying. Her hair and clothing looked disheveled, which was highly unusual for Weir. "What's the matter? Pretty flyboy not feeling so well? I don't suppose I could get my computer back and a report on the drug levels in Sheppard? This stuff will be really important some day. You're just too short sighted to see it. When we get back to earth..."

"**You** will not be returning to earth, even if we discover a ZPM capable of establishing a wormhole. You will never return to earth...I'll make sure of it." Her voice was almost as cold as her eyes. Kavanagh shivered slightly.

"You...you can't do that."

"Oh yes I can. You're crimes have affected all of Atlantis. It is we on Atlantis that will decide your fate and it is we on Atlantis that will carry out your punishment."

They looked at each other silently for several moments, Kavanagh starting to feel the fear creep up his spine. "Why are you doing this? The major will work the drug from his system and be fine again. There's no need to overreact."

She stood staring at him, the hate in her eyes crystal clear for everyone in the room to see. "Major Sheppard went into cardiac arrest 20 minutes ago." Kavanagh's mouth dropped open and he stumbled back to the bed, sitting heavily on the edge of it as Weir turned and left the room.

TBC

Sorry. I just had to do that. Too good a moment to pass up. You guys are totally right. I'm sick and evil (Hee! Hee! Evil laugh)


	13. Chapter 13

I love you guys so very much that I'm posting another chapter today. Two in one day! Now that is true love. Oops! It's after midnight, so I guess it's not technically in one day. Close enough. This might ease your pain a little.

Chapter 13

One of the soldiers guarding Kavanagh followed Weir out into the corridor. "Dr. Weir...ma'm...did you say...I mean...Major Sheppard..."

Weir turned to the stammering soldier, who looked for all the world like someonehad just knocked the windout of him. Gosh he looked young. When did the marines start enlisting children? Weir supposed that meant she was old. Today she felt old...really old. "I'm sorry, Lt., I didn't mean to frighten you. I was trying to make a point to Kavanagh."

A glimmer of hope crossed the soldier's face. "So the major's not...?" He was afraid to finish the sentence...afraid he had misunderstood.

"No...he did go into cardiac arrest." Weir shivered at the memory, less than a half an hour old. "Dr. Beckett was finally able to get his heart started again. He's holding on ...for now at least. I'd appreciate it if you didn't let Dr. Kavanagh in on that yet. I want him to sweat a while."

The soldier grinned broadly, relief flooding his face. "Yes, ma'm. Don't worry. We won't let on." He nodded and went back into the holding room. Weir turned and headed back to the infirmary.

McKay sat by Sheppard, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator whooshed in the background. Muscle tremors still shook his body, but the constant squirming had stopped. Beckett said he was unconscious again. which was very thankful at the moment.

"I"m sorry...John..I should have figured this out earlier. You shouldn't be here now." He got up and started pacing back and forth.

"Rodney, you're going to wear a path in my floor," said Beckett as he approached the bed.

"Well, this place could use a little redecorating. It's bound to be an improvement." Rodney stopped pacing and watched Beckett check the monitors and machinery keeping Sheppard alive. "Is he...is he okay?"

"No , Rodney, he's a long way from okay. But he's still with us ...and for now I'll take that."

Weir joined them at Sheppard's bedside. "I didn't miss anything important, did I?" She tried to keep her voice light in an effort to hide the fact that she had been afraid she would return to find John gone.

"Where'd you go anyway?" asked McKay.

"I had my own little visit with Dr. Kavanagh."

Both men widened their eyes in suprise. "You didn't slug him too, did you?" asked Beckett, scanning her hands for damage.

"No...I prefer mental games. He started yammering about going back to earth and I shut him down. I told him that he would not be going back to earth...ever. I told him those of us here in Atlantis would decide and carry out his punshment. Then I told him Major Sheppard had gone into cardiac arrest...and I left."

McKay began to smile slightly. "He thinks the major is dead...and all of his friends and comrades get to decide his punishment. Oh, Elizabeth, I have seriously underestimated you. That is ingenius. I bet he's shaking in his boots."

Weir nodded. "Let's let him stew on that for a while."

It was late the next day when Beckett and Nick noticed the next crisis looming on the horizon. Beckett had been filling Nick in on Sheppard' condition and reminding him to contact him if there was any change during the night. As Beckett rattled off test results and treatment plans, Nick interrupted.

"Carson?"

Beckett stopped talking and glanced over at Nick. "What?" Beckett noticed Nick was watching Sheppard.

Sheppard was just beginning to move around. They stood and watched in silence as the movements became more frantic and exaggerated. "Oh please no," whispered Beckett. Beckett finally moved to the side of Sheppard's bed and leaned over. "Major, can you hear me? Major, if you can hear me, open your eyes."

There was no response, just the continued shuffling of positions. As the movements increased in intensity, Sheppard began trying to roll over on his side. Nick and Beckett had to pin his shoulders to the bed to keep the ventilator tube in the proper position. Beckett called for the nurse.

"Kelly, we're going to need the restraints." She hesitated a second, and then turned to follow his orders.

Nick seemed suprised. "You're putting him in restraints?"

"Aye. He's still needs the ventilator. His diaphragm is spasming with the other muscles now. I'm just praying he's not conscious enough to be aware of what we're doing. The fact that he's giving us no response is a good sign in that direction."

Nick still looked worried. "What if he starts showing signs of waking up? We still can't give him any pain medication without risking his heart stopping - especially after what happened yesterday."

The nurse had arrived with the restraints and the three worked together to get them on his hands so he couldn't reach for the ventilator tube or turn completely on his side. It was quite a wrestling match and all three were breathing hard when they finished.

"I don't know. I just don't know what we'll do."

The agony began rolling over Sheppard a little more slowly this time. His body was exhausted. The white hot pain burned through him like an ever-tightening vise, moving randomly through the muscles of his body. He tried to move with the pain...to ride the crest until it tilted downward, gliding to a level he could tolerate. His body was sluggish with its response and he couldn't seem to coordinate his efforts with the reverberating anguish that had become his being. He fought and struggled, not quite ready to give up yet.

He was choking. He realized he couldn't breathe and real panic set in. He lost his rhythm with the pain as he tried to gasp for air, realizing he was unable to. Then, without warning, he couldn't move. He was pinned somehow...trapped. The pain continued to blaze through him as he struggled to move with it and desperately tried not to choke. He wanted to scream...to scream in frustration...to scream in pain...to scream for help...but he couldn't do that either. So he screamed in his head. And that's when he realized that sometimes silent screams are the loudest.

It was two days later when the motion finally stopped. McKay and Weir had been sitting with him for several hours, talking to him and trying to let him know they were there. There had never been any true sign of consciousness. He had not opened his eyes or spoken or given any indication of awareness. Beckett was hopeful that the constant motion was an automated response to the muscle cramps and spasms and that Sheppard was not really aware of what was going on. McKay had been the first to notice that, while the shaking remained, the rolling and thrashing had stopped. He had searched for Beckett for several minutes before finding him in the far, back storeroom.

"Carson, what are you doing back here, sacrificing chickens? You need to get up here right now. I think Sheppard's really asleep. He's quit all that flailing around he was doing."

Carson was at Sheppard's side a few moments later, checking him and his machinery over. He looked relieved when he was finished. "The worst of it's over. Looks like the cramps are finally settling. He should really be able to get some rest now." He looked over at the two exhausted friends. "And now, it's time for you to get some rest as well. Out with the both of ya." He shooed them out, telling them they could come back later...after they had gotten some rest.

Beckett stood watching the sleeping shell of John Sheppard. Pale, thin, and still on the respirator, he had a very long way to go. He had friends to help. Friends that wanted to help. He sure hoped that was enough.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

You guys are wonderful, as usual. I am trying to update as quickly as possible so you don't get too tired of waiting. Thanks for all the nice words and encouragement.

Chapter 14

"When do you think he'll wake up?" McKay was watching Beckett check on Sheppard and adjust the IV. Sheppard was breathing on his own, but was still hooked up to the heart monitor. Beckett said it was just a precaution. The bandaging that wrapped around the top of his head was smaller now and not quite so frightening.

Beckett sighed. "Rodney, I've already told you, there's no way to know. He'll wake up when he wakes up."

"But he's been asleep for four days. He's been off the ventilator for almost three days. Shouldn't he be waking up by now? It's brain damage, isn't it? I knew it. He's got brain damage and you're just not telling us..."

"Rodney! Shut up, man. I'm not aware of any brain damage. He's been through three rounds with an ancient poison and a serious head injury to boot. It's goin' to take him some time to heal."

"You didn't say NO brain damage."

"What?" Carson looked confused.

McKay, on the other hand, looked scared. "You didn't say that he didn't have brain damage. You just said you weren't _aware_ of any. Does that mean he might have some?"

Beckett looked a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I...I can't be absolutely sure until the swelling goes down and I've had a chance to talk to him, but I really don't expect there to be any problems. The brain contusion...er, bruise, is healing nicely and the swelling is almost gone. I honestly don't think there is any, but I just can't guarantee that yet."

McKay seemed relieved. "Okay. Okay, that's good." He looked at Sheppard's relatively still form. "At least most of the tremors have stopped. I just want him to wake up so I can talk to him. I want him to tell me he's okay."

Beckett placed his hand on McKay's shoulder. "I know ya do. He'll wake up soon. Just give him some time."

The voices began to filter in slowly. The pain was gone...well, the intense pain was gone. Left in its wake was a washed out, trembling, aching pain. He could feel gentle tremors and spasms, almost a cross between itching and tickling, flowing through him. He felt like an old, dirty rag that had been wrung out completely and thrown in a pile on the floor. An incredible emptiness washed through him and he didn't know why. He flet like weeping, but he didn't have the energy. The fire in his head had dimished somewhat, but was still there. He began to try to make sense of the voices. They seemed garbled and far away. He suddenly realized that he didn't care about the voices. He wanted to go back to the darkness. He could hide in the darkness and the pain couldn't find him.

"Major?" Beckett stepped over to Sheppard, peering carefully at his face.

McKay stood up immediately. "Carson, what's wrong? Is he waking up?"

"Aye, I think he is. Major, can you hear me? I know you're awake, lad...open yer eyes." Getting no response, Beckett gently shook his shoulder. "Major, you can't sleep forever. You might as well open yer eyes."

Sheppard finally began fluttering his eyelids, attemping to get them open. He groaned slightly as he shifted positions in bed. Once his eyes were open, he looked straight up to the ceiling.

"Hey, sleepy head. I was beginning to think we needed to find a princess to give you a kiss and wake you up." joked McKay, smiling broadly. Sheppard blinked a couple of times and shifted his head to see McKay, grimacing as he did. He slowly raised his hand and fingered the bandage around his head. His face was expressionless, so it was impossible to tell if he was suprised or not. "Thirsty?" McKay reached for the cup of ice chips he had been keeping handy. There were still a few unmelted ones. He fished one out and slid it into Sheppard's mouth. The major closed his eyes as the ice chip melted and the cool liquid slid down his throat.

"Major?" Sheppard slowly opened his eyes again, looking almost like the effort to do so was painful, and looked at Beckett. He was more careful about moving his head this time. "Major, do you rememer what happened?"

Both men looked expectantly at Sheppard, waiting on a response. Sheppard just went back to staring at the ceiling. McKay and Beckett looked nervously at one another.

"Major, can you hear what I'm saying? Major!" Sheppard looked briefly at the doctor, then turned his back to him as he rolled on his side and turned his face into the pillow, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He closed his eyes, effectively shutting them out and searched for the quiet darkness.

McKay looked at Beckett in confusion. Beckett motioned for him to follow and then led the way to his office. Once inside, McKay began pacing nervously around the office. "Carson, what was that? I thought you said you didn't think there was brain damage. I don't think he even knows who we are. What are you going to do?"

"Calm down, Rodney. It's not brain damage and he knows who we are. It's not physical. You have to remember what he's been through. It's not unusual for trauma patients to withdraw. He's just trying to cope with everything...let's give him some time. We owe him that much."

McKay watched Carson's sad expression carefully. "What else, Carson. What else is going on?"

Beckett rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "I just can't help but wonder...especially considering his reaction just now...Oh, I hope not..."

"Carson, you're not making any sense. You wonder about what."

He sat there staring at his desk a minute before answering. "I can't help but wonder...the days on the respirator when we had him in restraints...the days he was moving around so much...I'm starting to wonder how aware he was. Maybe I should have tried sedating him...maybe we could have given him something...I was just so sure it would kill him."

"Carson...you read Kavanagh's report on his computer. There's nothing you could have given him that wouldn't have caused more problems. You did what you could do. Besides, you don't even know that he was aware of things." Mckay paused a moment. He waved toward where Sheppard's bed was. "This isn't a good sign, is it?"

Beckett shook his head. "Not a good sign at all."

That night, Weir looked up from the paperwork on her desk to see Carson Beckett standing in the door. "Carson, come in. Is everything okay?"

Beckett stepped into the office and sat in one of the chairs. "What are you doing working so late?"

"I've dug myself a hole and I'm trying to get out." She grinned. "I've let a bunch of stuff slide lately and I'm trying to get caught up. What can I do for you? Is it Major Sheppard?" The smile had dissolved into a look of concern.

"We...may have a slight problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Major Sheppard woke up this afternoon..."

Weir looked suprised. "Why didn't you call me?"

Beckett looked down at his hands. "Elizabeth...he's been in and out of consciousness all afternoon...and he hasn't spoken a word."

She looked confused. "What do mean he hasn't spoken a word? Has he not been lucid enough...or is there a problem with speaking...what?"

"I hope it's only temporary. He's...detached. He seems to understand what's happening and I think he knows who we are...he just doesn't seem to care. I think it's a psychological reaction to the trauma. He may work his way out of this in a few days."

"What if he doesn't? How long could this last?"

"It'll last until he's ready to deal with all that's happened, however long that takes. There's no time limit on this, Elizabeth, and he's going to need help. That's going to be the hard part. The major is very reluctant to accept help, even when he needs it."

Elizabeth nodded. "Boy, that's the truth. What can we do?"

"Be there for him to talk to. Encourage him, without pushing. We need to show him that we have solved the problem and it will not be happening again. He needs to know that we are watching out for him. Reassure him that you care."

"Carson...what about...I mean do you think he might..." Weir was struggling to find the words, but Beckett knew what she was asking.

"...kill himself?"

Her face flushed red and she looked down. She didn't want to ask but she needed to know. She nodded.

"Well, I'm no psychiatrist and we should probably get Kate in to talk to him, but I think that was a panic reaction to what was happening. I think it was an isolated incident that won't happen again. But...just to be safe, we'll be keeping a close eye on him for a few days."

Weir looked haunted. "Carson...I knew what he was going to do before he did it."

Beckett leaned forward in his seat. "What are ya tellin' me Elizabeth?"

She sighed heavily. "He told me...that during the second attack...when the pain was really bad, that he opened his eyes and Ford was standing near him. He tried to go for his gun because that was the only thing he could do to stop the pain. Thank goodness he didn't have the strength to get it. And then in the conference room, he looked at me after the shaking started...and I knew what he was going to do."

"Well, that's it then. He already had the thought planted in his head that the only way to keep from suffering that pain was a bullet. In his fear and panic, that's what he went for. I don't think he'll try it again, especially considering Kavanagh's in custody."

"Could I come by and see him?" She looked hopeful.

"It's getting late...maybe just for a minute. But let's go now. He still needs rest and, from the looks of it, so do you."

They walked quietly to the infirmary, each wishing they could somehow go back in time and stop the whole thing from happening. The infirmary was relatively dark when they arrived. Nick and Kelly were reviewing some charts by lamp light. Nick stood up when he saw them approaching.

"Hello, Dr. Weir. I take it you've come to look in on our star patient. I'm pretty sure he's asleep...at least he was the last time I checked on him."

"Maybe I could just take a peek. I won't disturb him if he's sleeping."

Nick looked at Beckett. "Your call."

Beckett nodded. "Why don't we all have a look?" All three headed to Sheppard's bed. They could hear the rustling of sheets and the squeaking of the bed before they even got there. Beckett picked up the pace a bit. They had set up a couple of privacy curtains for Sheppard, so they couldn't see him until they were almost there. He was thrashing around and mumbling, his hair and scrubs wet with sweat and clinging to him. About the time Beckett reached his side, he sat up, gasping for air as he tried to catch his breath.

"Major?" He touched Sheppard on the arm, but the major flinched and pulled away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right son? Can you breathe okay?"

Sheppard sat panting for a minute, slowly bringing his breathing under control. He never made eye contact with anyone, but silently stared at bed in front of him. He looked down at his hands resting in his lap, trembling visibly. He rubbed his hands together nervously, as if trying to restore circulation.

Dr. Weir stepped forward. "John, are you okay?" He continued to ignore them. "John, please talk to us. We just need you to tell us what you need." Sheppard lay back down in the bed and turned his back to them, pulling the blanket up once again. "John?" She looked at the doctors helplessley. Beckett shrugged his shoulders.

Nick patted Sheppard on the shoulder, causing him to flinch again. "Call us if you need us Major. You know where to find us."

They left Sheppard to bury his face in the pillow and seek the darkness again.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Okay, first I need to apologize for the last few chapters. About the time I started realizing I had left some very large, gaping holes in the story, others started noticing it too. Thanks for calling me on it. I have been particularly negligent in regards to Ford and Teyla. I didn't mean to - I just got a little side tracked. Part of the problem is that I've been writing in too big a hurry and I've rushed it so much that I left stuff out. I keep typing with one eye and looking at the growing stack of papers I should be grading with the other eye and I guess I just lost it. Sorry about butchering the last few chapters. I'm going to try to mend the fence in this story and fill in some gaps. I know that isn't as good as actually writing the scenes into the story. Let me know if the patch job is too jerky and helter skelter. Maybe I can go back and rework a couple of chapters to make it flow better. If you guys are okay with the patch job this chapter, then I'll probably just leave it and learn a valuable lesson.

TheNaggingCube - okay, I used your gate torture/punishment thing this chapter. I hope you like.

Emrys1 - Girl, you have got to be breaking some kind of record on review length. I'm so flattered. And by the way, I happen to love "You Light up my Life", hokey or not. If you want something hokey, go read Blood Brothers - now that is about as corny as it gets. I have a definite hokey streak and I'm quite proud of it!

elemental-sparky -Thank goodness you did post a new chapter. I thought I was going to have to hunt you down.

To everyone else (way too many to do each and every one, much as I'd like to) thank you for making my day over and over and over again. I'll try not to leave any more holes in the story since I'm so good at digging holes in real life (rogue1503 knows what I mean - see Elizabeth in the last chapter and you'll know too).

Chapter 15

McKay stopped typing for a minute to watch Sheppard. He had shown up early this morning and staked out a chair beside Sheppard's bed, intent on not leaving until the major spoke to him. Sheppard had merely laid in bed, looking disinterested, at the ceiling, the wall, or the foot of the bed. They had raised the bed so that he was in a semi-sitting position. Nick, and then Beckett, had been in several times to check the major, each time talking to him and asking him questions. He had never even given any indication he heard the questions. McKay had talked almost non-stop until a few minutes ago, also without results. He had finally had to take a break since his mouth was so dry that his tongue kept sticking to the roof of his mouth.

McKay noticed Beckett approaching. The doctor walked over to McKay and handed him a cup of ice water. "Here, I thought you could probably use this. That was a lot of talkin', even for you."

McKay drank the whole cup greedily, sighing in relief as he finished. "Oh, thank you Carson. You have no idea how good that tasted."

"I don't suppose..." Beckett looked hopeful.

"Not a word. I'm not even sure if he's listening. I may have talked him into a coma by now." McKay glanced at Sheppard, his expression grim. "Why won't you let me help you?" he asked softly.

"Why don't you take a break Rodney?"

"Nope. Not leaving until the major talks to me." He got up and put his face just inches from Sheppard's. "Do you hear that? I'm not leaving until you say something. If you want me to shut up and go, you're going to have to tell me that. All you have to do is TELL me to go and I will." Sheppard seemed to be looking at him and he wondered for a minute if he might not be going to yell at him. For once, that would be a sweet sound. But Sheppard just blinked and turned his head.

McKay straightened and sighed heavily. "Okay, it's your ears." He sat back down and retrieved his laptop from the desk.

Beckett shook his head sadly. "I'll check back with you later."

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Beckett returned thirty minutes later with Kate Heightmeyer. "Rodney, Kate needs to speak with Major Sheppard. I think now would be a good time to take a break."

McKay looked unsure. "I ...I don't know Carson. I don't think I should leave." He glanced at Sheppard, but saw no reaction.

Kate smiled, unoffended. "I won't bite, Dr. McKay. Dr. Weir has asked me to talk to the major. Just give us...about thirty minutes or so and then you can come back."

McKay still looked unhappy, but he put the computer aside and stood up. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't start the party without me." He patted Sheppard's arm as he spoke, trying for that extra bit of contact. Then, reluctantly, he left with Beckett.

Kate noticed Sheppard's eyes as they tracked McKay's retreat from the area. He **was** aware of what was going on around him, even if he didn't want anyone to know that. Kate was somewhat relieved. Maybe they had a chance. "Major Sheppard, we need to talk about what happened. I need to know what you remember about that day in the conference room."

Sheppard just looked at the wall behind her. She shifted her position a little so that she was in his line of sight. "Major, this may seem a little unsettling and I know how much you hate talking to me, but it's essential. You're not going to get better until you deal with what happened. Surely you don't want to lay in this bed staring into space for the rest of your life. You always pride yourself on looking out for Atlantis. You can't do that in your current state." She paused, but got no response. "We just want to help you."

Sheppard turned away from her to lay partially on one side. "I know you are avoiding me by doing that, but I'm not going away. The pain you felt...the fear...the helplessness...none of that is going to go away. At some point you are going to have to look it in the eye and find a way to handle it. It will be much easier with help." No response.

Kate walked around the bed and sat in the chair, facing Sheppard. "We will eventually have to discuss your attempt to shoot yourself. The prevailing opinion is that it was a panic reaction to extenuating circumstances and not likely to repeat itself. I will, however, need to confirm that before I can clear you to leave the infirmary, not to mention getting back to active duty."

Sheppard looked at her and she thought she saw a brief glimmer of confusion, but it quickly faded back to a distinct lack of expression. She briefly wondered if he remembered what had happened. She hadn't considered that the head injury might have caused some short term memory loss, a relatively common occurrance.

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Thirty minutes after leaving, Beckett and McKay returned. "How are we doing?" asked Beckett as they approached the end of the bed.

"We're finished," Kate said. "Or rather, I'm finished. It was a rather one-sided conversation, I'm afraid. I'll be back tomorrow," she said, directing the last statement to Sheppard. McKay moved to take up his place beside Sheppard's bed.

Beckett pushed a rolling table over to Sheppard's bed and set a tray of food on it. "I brought you some soup, Major. You need to start eating again if we're going to build your strength up. We've got several pounds to put back on you." Beckett maneuvered the tray to within easy reach for Sheppard. He continued to lay on his side, however, making no effort to get to the tray. "All right. I'll just leave it for ya to eat when you're hungry." Beckett turned and walked out with Heightmeyer.

McKay looked at Sheppard, who looked like he might actually be watching him back. "You really do need to eat, you know. If you don't put some weight back on, the first time you go outside, the wind will carry you away." He watched Sheppard's eyes for some sort of reaction or response, but got none.

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Beckett and Heightmeyer walked into Beckett's office. "What do you think?" he asked. He thought she looked kind of sad.

"The fire's gone."

"Excuse me?"

Kate looked up at Beckett. "The fire's gone out of his eyes. I know Major Sheppard doesn't like talking to me. I can always tell he's choosing his words carefully, telling me what he thinks I want to hear. I don't usually worry too much, because he seems to have developed his own way of handling things that works for him. But while I'm watching him come up with his patent answers, there's a fire in his eyes that lets me know he's ...I don't know...very much alive and in control. It's like you can see the fire of his soul and you know he'll be okay. The first thing I noticed today was that the fire is gone. **That's** what worries me."

Beckett stood there speechless, looking at her, waiting on there to be a solution. "What do we do?"

"You want to know what I honestly think? You're best bet is in there with him."

Beckett looked past his office door. "Rodney?"

Heightmeyer nodded. "The closest thing to a reaction I saw today was when Rodney left the room. He watched him all the way out. Rodney's made a connection. It's a small one right now, but if he works on it...I think that could be the answer."

Beckett gazed off in the distance, as if in a trance. "Oh my god, Rodney really is the answer man."

Heightmeyer looked confused. "What?"

Beckett shook his head. "Sorry...nothing. Rodney said he wasn't leaving until the major talked to him. I guess I'll let him stay, then."

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Lt. Ford and Teyla carefully approached Major Sheppard's bed. They found him partially sitting up in bed, a tray of untouched food next to the bed, staring blankly into space. Dr. McKay sat in the chair next to the bed, looking absently at his laptop computer screen. He looked up at them as they approached.

"Hey, guys. Where have you been? I could use a little help here. Major Silent is starting to wear on my nerves."

"We have been going through Dr. Kavanagh's lab the last couple of days and gathering...evidence." Teyla glanced at Ford, who nodded that she had used the right word.

Ford frowned at McKay. "He hasn't said anything yet?"

"Not a word. I've insulted him, asked questions, insulted him, explained nuclear physics, insulted him...you get the idea. Not so much as a single snark. If he doesn't get a grip soon, I'm either going to die of loneliness or boredom. Heck, I've even started insulting myself, just so I'd have something to respond to."

Ford smiled at Teyla, who also looked mildly amused. "I am curious, Dr. McKay. Has anyone explained to the major what has happened?"

McKay nodded. "Well, I've explained the basics. I told him it was Kavanagh and that we had him locked up. He's not really in any condition to discuss the details. I don't even know if he's listening to me half the time." He turned towards Sheppard and directed his next comments his direction. "When he decides to talk to me, I'll be happy to give him all the details and answer questions."

"So, did you tell him you slugged Kavanagh yet? He might enjoy hearing about that." Ford grinned like a kid.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did tell him about that. I also told him what Elizabeth did. He should know for future reference just how dangerous that woman can be...for his own safety."

"Dr. McKay," Teya began. "You should probably know that we found a container with three more of the blue stones in Dr. Kavanagh's office. That was why he was willing to risk losing the one he put in Major Sheppard's pocket. We are certain that is all of them. We have searched his office, lab, and quarters."

"I will never understand how he could do this. I mean, I knew he was a self-centered, egocentric, annoying weasel, but I would never have guessed he could stoop this low. Sure wish I had of, though."

Teyla raised one eyebrow, sensing McKay's feelings of guilt. "Dr. McKay, surely you do not blame yourself. None of us could have foreseen this. We have depended on one another so much, it is hard to imagine one of our own doing something so terrible. The blame is all with Dr. Kavanagh."

"Hey, Dr. McKay, whatever happened to the rock Kavanagh gave to the major?" asked Ford.

"Elizabeth locked it up somewhere for safe keeping. Hard to imagine that little rock can cause so much trouble." Rodney sighed, glancing at Sheppard, who didn't seem to be paying any attention. He briefly wondered if he was.

"Did anyone else get hurt by it? Aren't you the one who found it was in the major's pocket? Are you okay? You have the ancient gene too, now." Ford looked anxious, as if he was watching an action/adventure movie. McKay almost laughed. No wonder Sheppard got such as kick out of hanging around the kid. Small doses for McKay, though. Sheppard still had a lot of kid in him too, so it didn't get on his nerves like it did McKay's after a while.

"Dr. Beckett has assured me I'm fine. I had him run a blood test since I did have it in my pocket for a while. But my gene isn't as strong as Sheppard and I had it wrapped in a wad of gauze, so I'm okay. Carson said my blood test came back clear." He looked across the room, as if deep in thought. "You know, I did think I may have felt it get warm for a second. But, if it did, I guess it wasn't long enough to do any damage."

Ford and Teyla looked relieved. Ford snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. "Hey, I know something that might cheer the two of you up."

"For heaven's sake, what? We could use a lift in this dungeon of gloom we're in over here. Give!" McKay encouraged.

Ford rubbed his hands together in pleased satisfaction. "We've come up with a good punishment for Kavanagh."

"Who is we?" asked McKay.

"Military personnel. Well, the original idea came from the poor schmucks who got stuck guarding Kavanagh, but the rest of us chimed in and added stuff. We take people who mess with our CO very seriously. Especially when we have a really good one."

"You guys have a lot of respect for the major, don't you?" asked McKay. He slid a sideways glance at Sheppard to see if it looked like he was listening. No reaction.

Ford, however, saw the look and realized what McKay was doing. His reply was serious and honest. "The men have a lot of respect for Major Sheppard. He may not have started out as our CO, but he's done a good job. He's tough and expects a lot from us, but he's fair. And he never expects you to do anything he's not willing to do himself. Heck, most of the time he takes on the most dangerous jobs. And everyone knows, he doesn't leave people behind. You know he'll watch your back. To be perfectly honest sir...I've never served under anyone better."

Teyla nodded. "My people have a great deal of respect for the major as well. He did not have to take us in and yet he did. He defended us when others thought we were in league with the wraith. He has always shown my people respect and honor and we value that. My people consider him a good friend and leader."

They sat in silence a moment, hoping for some reaction from Sheppard. They got nothing.

Ford decided to continue his story. "Anyway, about our punishment. This is what we came up with. We take Kavanagh down to the gate and activate it."

"Ohhhh," said McKay. "Behead him in the wormhole wake."

"No, no!" said Ford. "That's too quick. Have some imagination."

"I have imagination. I am a genius, after all. I have to have imagination."

"Not in regard to torture and pain," said Ford. "This is more military imagination. Anyway, we put Kavanagh's hand in the event horizon...and then shut down the gate."

"OUCH! That hurts! Maybe I **don't** have the right kind of imagination." McKay made a face of disgust.

Ford grinned. "I'm not done, sir. Now his hand is cut off, right. So we get Beckett to fix him up so he doesn't bleed to death and give him a few days to get over it. Then when the pain starts going down, we haul him back down to the gate and cut off the other hand. Then a foot, then the other foot...you get the idea. Just whittle him away a little at a time. Make him suffer nice and slow...just like the major did. And we don't have a set schedule so that he never knows when we are going to come get him...just like the major didn't know when the pain would come for him. Maybe we could tease him a time or two...you know...take him down there and fire up the gate, but then not do anything that day. He'd never know til it happened when we were going to hurt him." The expression on Ford's face made both Teyla and McKay a little frightened. They had no idea Ford had that kind of anger in him. McKay realized for the first time how much Sheppard's experience had affected all of his friends...how it had affected the entire city.

"You guys have really thought this thing out. I wouldn't count on Elizabeth going along with it though. She's not military. We'll probably have to come up with something more civilized...not that he deserves it. Sometimes I just wish I'd killed him that day I wanted to. Then I could tell the major that he was gone forever."

Movement caught his attention and he looked around just in time to see Sheppard roll over, back to them all, and bury his face in the pillow. He thought he heard a slight, muffled whimper.

TBC

I'm winding down. Don't worry, it won't go on forever. I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel.


	16. Chapter 16

Beckett almost had to come after me with the defibrillator paddles. The old review-o-meter hit 300 and I nearly passed out. When I posted chapter one a million years ago (seems like), I was thinking it would be neat if I could hit 100. Boy, did I get a shock. But it's a good shock. I'm trying to enjoy it because I know it'll never happen again in a million years. But man-oh-man, what a ride. I'd come and personally hug each one of you, but I don't know how to find you and I'd probably scare you off...and I wouldn't want to do that. So...just consider yourself hugged for making me smile a whole lot lately.

Chapter 16

Teyla walked beside Ford as they left the infirmary, each quietly reflecting on Sheppard's condition. Ford spoke first. "I guess I just don't understand why he's doing this. He can see and hear. He has to know everyone's just trying to help. Why is he shutting us out?" Ford almost looked like his feelings were hurt and Teyla suspected that wasn't far from the truth.

"I think this reaction is not unusual for a man like Major Sheppard. He has been through a great trauma and much pain that we cannot hope to understand. In spite of what he has been told, I believe the major fears the pain will return. He has been assured before that his ordeal was over, only to have it come back."

"I know, but this is different. This time it really is over."

Teyla stopped and looked up at Ford. "How can you be certain? Do you **know** that Dr. Kavanagh did not hide some stones somewhere else in case he got caught? Do you **know** that he does not have an accomplice? Do you **know** that the toxin has not hidden in some tissue in the major, only to come back again at a later date to cause him pain?"

Ford's eyes had gotten bigger with each question. "Do you think any of that stuff could be true?" He looked genuinely worried.

"No, I do not believe it to be true. But in Major Sheppard's position, I might be more concerned. The major ...builds walls, does he not?" she asked, remembering the terms she had heard the earth people use.

"Builds walls...you mean...distances himself from everyone. Yeah, he does. We've all been here together for months and I still don't know much about him before Atlantis."

"Does it not seem reasonable that a man who builds a wall around himself anyway might react to extreme shock and trauma by withdrawing and shutting himself off entirely? I believe that is his way of coming to terms with what has happened...he will talk to us when he is ready and I do not believe we should push too hard."

Ford nodded. "I guess I hadn't thought of it like that. I guess we could give him some time. I just...miss the major."

"As do I." Teyla looked around the hall where they had ended up. She had just been walking with Ford and not paying attention to where they were going. "Aiden, where are we? Is this..."

They stopped in front of a large door. "Yep! We're going to see Kavanagh. Just follow my lead...let's go play some mind games." He opened the door and they headed in.

Ford nodded at the guards as they walked into the room. Ford began to slowly circle around the holding cell, carefully watching Kavanagh. Teyla followed slowly, so that they ended up on opposite sides of the cell, each looking at the scientist in a menacing way. Ford turned to the guards and winked as he passed, so he wouldn't freak them out too bad. Kavanagh was standing in the middle of the cell, looking first to Ford, and then to Teyla. He was a little afraid of them both, so he wasn't sure who to keep his eyes on.

"What do you want?" yelled Kavanagh, getting really nervous.

"I was just thinking...about what would be a good punishment. Dr. Weir's trying to decide whether to have a kind of court ...or just take suggestions...or turn the major loose on you when he's able. Personally, I like Martin's suggestion with the wormhole." He looked at one of the soldiers as he made another pass. Their constant motion was keeping Kavanagh nervously twisting in the center of his cage. "Hey Martin? Did you tell him what you're suggestion was?"

The soldier grinned, pleased that he could be a part of the fun. "Yes, sir, I told him my idea. I don't think he liked it very much."

Ford gave an expression of mock suprise. "I wonder why? I think it's a great idea." They continued to circle the cell.

"Look...I already know that Sheppard didn't die. So don't try to make me think you can do much to me. It's not like I killed anyone or anything. All you can do is keep me in here til they open a wormhole back to earth." They weren't sure if he was trying to convince them or himself. His voice had gotten more and more high-pitched as he went.

Teyla arched one eyebrow and gave Kananagh one of her frosty glares. "Some might argue that what you did to the major was almost worse that death. We Athosians also have punishments to fit such crimes. Perhaps Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard would like to hear of them."

Kavanagh was still nervously twisting and turning, trying to watch both Ford and Teyla. As he spun around, he lost his footing and unceremoniously plopped to the ground on his behind. Ford and Teyla looked at one another for several seconds, trying to maintain a straight face. Ford cracked first, his lips beginning to turn upward into a big "we gotcha" grin. Seeing that her partner was quickly losing his composure, Teyla also began to smile. Within seconds, the two team mates as well as the two soldiers were bent over laughing. Kavanagh was so angry as he tried to scramble to his feet, he got his legs tangled up in the chair legs, throwing himself back on the ground. Ford began slapping his leg and trying to yell "Stop" as he gave in to the hysterics that were draining the tension of the past few weeks for both of them.

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Beckett approached McKay and Sheppard quietly, a bowl of soup in his hand. It had been several hours since Teyla and Ford left and most of it had been quiet. As he suspected, he found Sheppard asleep on his side, face partially buried in the pillow. He watched for a second to make sure he was breathing in that awkward looking position. Beckett set the bowl on the rolling meal tray. He looked up to find McKay stretching and yawning. He had apparently dozed off himself. McKay looked at his watch and then at Beckett.

"How's he been?" asked Beckett.

"He's been asleep almost since Teyla and Ford left earlier. You going for round two?" He nodded toward the soup bowl.

Beckett nodded. "Thought I'd give it a try. He needs to eat. I'm glad to see he's been getting some rest, though. He needs that as well." Beckett touched Sheppard on the shoulder. "Major, you need to wake up now. I've brought you some soup."

Sheppard rolled over on his back and rubbed his eyes, struggling to get them open. McKay stood up, stretching and yawning once again. Beckett watched him for a second. "Looks like someone else took a little nap."

"Well," said McKay, "it's hard to stay awake when you're just talking to yourself. I guess I got really bored to go to sleep in these chairs you've recycled from a torture chamber. Where in the heck did you get these things?"

"DId ya ever think maybe they're uncomfortable for a reason? Like to discourage people from takin' up residence in the infirmary. That **is** what we have quarters for, ya know." Beckett was adjusting Sheppard's bed and pillows to get him sitting up better. Sheppard didn't seem to be either helping or hindering the process. Beckett slid the tray over in front of Sheppard. "It's sort of like chicken noodle, major. I had a bowl myself and it's pretty good. Now eat, lad." Sheppard made no movement toward the bowl. He just closed his eyes.

"Hey, how's it going?" Weir strolled up to stand beside the two men. "I don't suppose there's been any talking or eating this afternoon?"

"Not yet," said Beckett. I was just working on the eatin' problem. Not having much luck though." He looked back at Sheppard to see his eyes were open. "Ah, you're back," he said.

Weir walked over to stand beside Sheppard. "I hear you're causing problems. You really do need to eat, you know. If you're tired, I could help you," she offered. Sheppard turned his head away from her. Weir looked down at the floor, sadness and diappointment filling her face. She wanted to help him so badly and she just didn't know what to say. She touched his arm and he flinched. She gripped his arm even tighter. "We're here for you when you're ready. You just have to let us know. John...please let us in soon. I miss you." She let go of his arm and backed away when she got no response. She looked a little like she'd just lost her best friend.

Beckett sighed heavily, getting a little disgusted. "Major, I can't make you talk to us, but you are going to HAVE to eat something. You've lost several pounds and you are very weak. You're not going to get any better if you don't eat. The IV can only do so much."

Sheppard reached his hand out, the movement suprising them. Instead of picking up the spoon, however, he pushed the bowl away from him.

Beckett clenched his teeth in anger. "Major, you are going to eat. This is gettin' bloody ridiculous. You are NOT going to starve youself in MY infirmary. Now EAT!" He pushed the bowl back in front of Sheppard. Sheppard stared at Beckett for a second, a glint of anger fleeting across his eyes for those who were watching. Then he swept the bowl of soup off the tray and onto the floor, scattering soup and ceramic shards everywhere. Beckett's face turned bright red.

"Twenty-four hours. If you don't eat anythin' in the next twenty-four hours, major, I'm puttin' in a feeding tube...and that is not a pleasant process. And you don't need to think I'm kiddin', because I'm not." Beckett turned to the others. "I'll send someone to clean up this mess" He stormed across the room.

McKay looked in amazement at Sheppard. "Oh, that was smart. Piss off the man with all the sharp, pointy objects. Not smart at all, my man. Not smart at all."

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McKay awoke to the darkness, unsure of where he was or what had awakened him. He squinted, peering into the darkness, searching for something he recognized. The infirmary. He was sleeping in the bed next to Sheppard. With that memory, he realized he heard soft voices and rustling behind him. He began turning over and getting out of the bed.

Nick and the nurse (Kelly) were at Sheppard's bedside. Kelly was pressing an oxygen mask to his face with one hand, her other planted reassuringly on his shoulder. She was leaned over almost whispering in his ear. "Just breathe major. You have to calm down and breathe. Try to focus on taking each breath and not on the pain."

They had Sheppard propped so that he was sitting almost straight up, obviously to help him breathe. His face was pale and covered with sweat. His back was arched slightly against the bed and his face was turned up toward the ceiling as he gasped in uneven, ragged breaths. Each hand was wrapped around a bedrail, gripping it for dear life as he struggled to draw in enough air. The hospital gown was pulled back off his chest and the heart monitor that Beckett had disconnected earlier that day was now reconnected. Nick had one hand on Sheppard's chest, just below the monitor leads. He was carefully watching the screen of the monitor. McKay could tell the heartbeat displayed there was going much too fast.

"That's it major, just breathe. It's almost over now. I can feel the muscle starting to relax. Just concentrate on breathing."

McKay moved up behind Nick. "What's going on? It's not back is it?"

"No, he's okay. Just a muscle spasm in his chest. He was having a little trouble breathing. It's almost over now."

As if on cue, Sheppard slowly relaxed back onto the bed. His breathing slowly became more regular and even and the beeping of the heart monitor began to reduce to a more normal speed. Nick asked the nurse for something. She secured the oxygen mask to Sheppard's face and left. Nick began to listen to Sheppard's chest with the stethoscope, making little hmmm noises as he went.

"What does that mean, hmmm? Is he okay? I thought he was past the bad attacks." Rodney's questions were going faster and his voice was getting higher, a hint of panic in it. Nick recognized the man's fear and turned back to him.

"He's going to be okay, Dr. McKay. He hasn't had a bad attack in a while and we were hopeful that they were over. This is a bit of a setback. Doctor...I'm afraid he's starting to lose ground. That's why Dr. Beckett is so concerned about him eating. He's pretty much peaked out for now and is going to slide back downhill if we don't get him to eat. Carson wasn't kidding when he said he'd put in a feeding tube. He's already got it set up and ready to go."

"Guess that means he told you about this afternoon. I didn't realize that it was this serious...I just thought Carson was mad."

"You know him better than that. He is upset...but it's because he's worried. Major Sheppard has come too far to start going backwards. He's just trying to get him back on his feet."

They noticed that Sheppard was starting to shiver, so Nick replaced the hospital gown and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. "Sorry, major. We didn't mean to freeze you."

Kelly returned with a syringe and injected it into Sheppard's IV. Nick touched Sheppard on the shoulder. "Just keep breathing major. We've given you something to help you relax and get back to sleep. I'm going to leave you up for a while to make sure your breathing's okay. I'll leave the oxygen mask for a while as well. Get some sleep and you'll feel better in the morning." They watched as Sheppard's eyes closed and he drifted off.

Nick turned to McKay. "You might as well get back to sleep as well. He'll be okay. Kelly will watch him a while to be sure. Sorry about waking you...I know you haven't slept much lately."

McKay shook his head. "That's okay. I'd rather know what's going on. Let me sit with him a minute and then I'll go back to bed...promise."

Nick nodded. "Okay, but just a minute. Carson will have my head if you drop form exhaustion on my watch."

McKay nodded. "I promise." He sat in the chair and watched Sheppard breathe.

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Ford and Teyla walked into the infirmary just as Beckett was removing the oxygen mask from Sheppard. It was mid-morning and McKay was pacing as he explained what had happened the night before to Dr. Weir. Beckett was filling in some of the explanation about the event. Ford and Teyla caught just enough to have a basic understanding.about why Sheppard was propped part way up with an oxygen mask.

Beckett pulled the blanket back and slid the stethoscope under the major's gown to listen to his breathing. After moving it around several times, he seemed satisfied and replaced the gown and blanket. "Well, major, I think things are back to normal. I imagine you're sore, though." He watched Sheppard silently for a moment, hoping for some sign the man was listening. He got none. "Remember what I said, lad. I'll bring you some more soup after while. If you don't eat by tonight, we're puttin' in the feedin' tube. It's for your own good...and I WILL do it if I have to." Beckett patted him on the arm and left.

Ford proceeded to tell them about he and Teyla's little escapade with Kavanagh the day before. "Oh, major, you should have seen him when he fell flat on his butt. He was so mad. It was even funnier when he tried to get up and fell again. I've never seen one guy turn so many shades of red and purple." He watched Sheppard's face for a sign of a smile, but none came. Sheppard's eyes kept drifting closed for a few minutes at a time and he seemed unusually pale. Ford was pretty sure he was drifting in and out of sleep and probably getting very little out of the conversation. He looked so...fragile. Ford shuddered. Seeing his CO like this was like something out of a nightmare. He really hated Kavanagh.

Teyla also seemed concerned. "The major seems very tired this morning. Perhaps we should let him get some rest and return later."

Ford nodded his agreement as he jumped off the edge of the bed he'd been sitting on. "I think you're right. How about if we come back after lunch."

"Might not be a bad idea. He had...a rough night." said McKay, who they noticed also looked extremely tired. Ford and Teyla turned and left.

"Hey," said Weir. "You look tired. I have a feeling that John's not the only one who had a rough night. I bet you didn't sleep a wink after the attack, did you?"

McKay rubbed his eyes. "Not really. I was afraid he'd stop breathing. He just looked so...helpless. John Sheppard. The man who is usually dragging me out of danger single handedly while beating off an entire army with one arm...looked totally and completely helpless. I was scared, Elizabeth. I still am."

"Why don't you go get something to eat. I'll sit with him until you get back."

McKay hesitated. "I..."

"Please, Rodney. Let me stay with him a minute."

McKay realized she really needed some time with him. He hadn't considered that he had monopolized the major the last couple of days. He never did share well. "Okay, Elizabeth. I guess I am kind of hungry." He nodded to her and headed for the mess hall.

Elizabeth sat by the bed. She gently took his hand in hers. He flinched, but did not pull away. She sat there for several minutes, just watching his eyes drift open and then closed. She was comforted that his breathing seemed strong and regular. They had left the heart monitor connected after the episode last night and she found the steady beeping both comforting and worrysome. "John, I don't know if you can hear me, or if you want to hear me. I miss you. I miss our little impromptu meetings on the balcony. I miss your banter during the mission briefings. I miss the way you and Rodney argue like a couple of 5 year-olds while forging one of the strongest friendships I have ever seen. I just miss...you. Please come back to us soon. I promise...I will be there for you...we all will." She took the sides of his face in her hands and turned his head where they were eye to eye. "I can't do this without you, John Sheppard...so you better snap out of it soon."

A single tear rolled down one cheek. His expression never changed, but he took one hand and blotted the tear with his index finger. He looked down at his moist finger and absently rubbed the tip of his thumb and the finger together. He sat staring at his hand for a minute...and then leaned his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes. For a minute, he looked almost like he was in pain. Weir was considering calling Beckett, but his expression relaxed. She wiped what was left of the tear from her cheek, unsure of what had just happened.

McKay returned a few minutes later. "Hey, thanks. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started eating." He looked at Sheppard. "You hear that. Eating is good."

Elizabeth got up and walked around the bed. McKay put his hand on her arm as she passed him. "We're going to get him back...you know that, right?"

Elizabeth smiled a little. "I hope you're right Rodney, but I'm beginning to wonder. I've got to start considering what I'll do if he doesn't" She looked down at him sadly. "In more ways than one..."

"I'll get him back, Elizabeth...I promise." She simply nodded, turned, and walked slowly out the door.

McKay turned back to Sheppard. "She's a good woman...and a good leader. She deserves better than this. What are you thinking, John Sheppard? Are you thinking? You've got all of us wracking our brains trying to figure out what to do to get to you ...to help you. I know we can't promise you'll never hurt again. None of us can have an assurance like that. You're not a coward and you've never run from pain, so I don't think that's even what this is about. You're building walls, John. You're shutting yourself off from us even more completely than before. What are you hiding from? Us? You? I know it's not that sniveling weasel Kavanagh. Even I'm not afraid of him and I'm afraid of everything. So what are you afraid of John Sheppard?"

"You can talk to me. You know that, right? We've saved each other's lives before. Aren't there cultures that teach that comes with responsibility? We take care of each other and we take care of Atlantis. You, me, and Elizabeth. I figure things out, Elizabeth negotiates, and you protect. Haven't you figured out that it takes all three of us? What happens to Atlantis and all of us if you cash it in? You think we have a snowball's chance in hell of surviving a wraith attack without you, because I can pretty much guarantee you we don't. It's time to live up to your responsibility. You can tell me anything...you know that. We can work this out...but only if you are willing to talk to me. I am not...I repeat, NOT leaving here without you talking to me." He leaned over and took Sheppard's face in his hands. His eyes were inches from Sheppard's. "You've taught me well, major. We don't leave people behind. And I am not leaving you behind. Not now. Not ever." He let go of Sheppard and straightened back up to see Beckett coming with another bowl of soup. "I think the hour of reckoning is at hand."

Beckett nodded at Rodney as he placed the bowl of soup on the rolling tray. He slid it in front of Sheppard and put a spoon beside it. This time he didn't say anything, but backed away and just stood, watching with McKay. Sheppard sat there a minute and then his gaze shifted down to the soup. After another minute, he picked up the spoon and began eating the soup slowly, careful of the hot liquid.

Beckett's mouth dropped open as he looked at Rodney, who was smiling so big he thought his face might split open. "Bloody heck, Rodney. How did you do that?"

Rodney just continued to grin. "Hey, you forget. I'm the answer man."

TBC

Yes, he's finally on the road out of here. It was just a long road.


	17. Chapter 17

I wish I had the time to respond to every single reviewer. If I did that, we'd be here two days reading nothing but notes to reviewers. I do want to give a special thanks to those of you who write down specific things you like and/or give nice overviews to the way you see the story unfolding. Special thanks to Emrys1, who holds the record for longest and funniest reviews and to my soul-mate, rogue1503, who keeps me sane on a daily basis and is a constant source of support and inspiration. Another hug going out to all you guys who read and review - YOU ROCK!

Chapter 17

Elizabeth walked into the infirmary, kneading the stiff muscles in the back of her neck. What a day! She hated playing catch-up. It was tiring and boring and stressful, all at the same time. If they could just get John back on his feet, maybe she would have a chance of keeping things in order. That was practically impossible when you spent half your day in the infirmary or staring into space wondering about his condition. She looked out the window at the darkness. She had meant to come by before dinner, but simply hadn't had the time. She hurried her pace a little, wanting to see John before it got too late.

She was already too late. She walked up to Sheppard's bed to find his bed already reclined and him fast asleep. McKay sat working on his computer in his home-away-from-home chair next to the bed. He looked up and smiled, noting her look of disappointment.

"You just missed him. He zonked out about fifteen minutes ago. I think he was extra tired today because of the episode last night. Good news, though. They removed the heart monitor, again, and he ate another bowl of soup tonight. I think Carson's going to go for something a little thicker tomorrow."

Elizabeth's mood brightened. "That is good news. Has he...said anything yet?"

Rodney sighed. "No...but he seems more...with it. It's like he's ...I don't know...more interested in the things going on around him. You almost get the feeling he's paying attention on some level. His eyes don't look quite so...vacant. I'm really starting to feel good about it." He held up crossed fingers. "Hoping for tomorrow."

"Why Rodney, I didn't think you were superstitious."

"I'm not. But a little luck never hurt anyone...and he's overdue for some."

"Are you sleeping at all? I don't want my two top men down at the same time."

Rodney nodded and pointed to the bed next to him. "Carson's letting me bunk out here. I want to be here when he needs me...when he's ready to talk. I guess Carson agrees because he hasn't given me too much grief for staying so long."

Elizabeth nodded. She stepped closer to Sheppard's bed and instinctively reached out to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. Her finger lingered on the red, new scar along the side of his head. She could tell the stitches hadn't been out long. The hair was beginning to grow again around the rough scar tissue and would probably hide most of it when it was longer. But for now, it was a startling reminder of what had almost happened...of just how close she had come to losing him forever. She thought perhaps the hardest thing to deal with was that it would have been by his own hand. She had faced his death on several occasions and knew that there was a better than average chance it would be real one day. But not that way. She could never deal with him taking his own life. Never. She shuddered and pulled her hand back.

None of this was lost on Rodney. As he watched her lightly touch the reddish scar tissue, he was also thinking of what had nearly happened and why. Suddenly, his stomach felt heavy and he wished he hadn't eaten supper tonight. He tried to bring his mind back to the progress that had been made that day. "He's going to be okay, Elizabeth. We'll have him talking in no time. Just think, a week from now we'll wonder why it was we **wanted** him to talk."

Elizabeth tried to give a small smile. "I know, Rodney. I just keep seeing the look on his face...and remembering how I felt when I thought he was...dead."

Rodney's expression sobered and his face paled slightly. "Yeah...I kind of remember that feeling myself."

She shook her head. "We're not going to dwell on that. We have to put that behind us for John's sake. Does he...does he remember what happened...have you been able to tell?"

Rodney shook his head. "No idea what he remembers. We'll just have to wait and ask him. You know if he remembers...or even if he doesn't, when he finds out...it's going to be hard for him to deal with. It's so...not John Sheppard."

"I know. But we'll be here to help him with that too. That's what friends do. I guess Carson's been in a somewhat better mood today."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's an understatement. He's harder to be around than yesterday - I swear, Elizabeth, he was singing some kind of Scottish thing earlier and I thought I might have to pull my ears off my head. The man brings new meaning to the term tone deaf."

Elizabeth smiled broadly. Maybe things were actually returning to normal after all.

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Sheppard walked down the darkened hallway. He knew it was late, but he still had expected to see a few night shift people along the way. There certainly should be military people on duty. He'd have to remember to check on that. He reached the doorway to McKay's lab and wondered briefly why he had come down here at this hour. He couldn't remember. He heard moaning as he stepped inside the lab. His heart lept to his throat and the adrenaline kicked into overdrive at the sight before him. An old, whithered shell of Rodney McKay lay on the floor giving his last gasp as a wraith kneeled beside him and fed.

Sheppard drew his gun and fired at the wraith, who turned from McKay and began to advance toward him. As he emptied the gun into the unflinching wraith, he noticed it looked like Kavanagh. No...it was Kavanagh. When did Kavanagh become a wraith, he wondered as his gun clicked on empty. Wraith Kavanagh laughed at him. "Now it is your turn, Major Sheppard. I will enjoy feeding on you even more than Dr. McKay." Suddenly he had Sheppard pinned against the wall, his feet dangling inches above the ground as he planted his other hand on Sheppard's chest. He could smell the foul stench of death and decay on the creature's breath as white hot pain spread through his chest and his vision started to gray. He screamed in agony as he felt the life being drained away.

McKay sat straight up in bed, the sounds of Sheppard's screams still loud in his ears. He leaped off the bed and was next to Sheppard in an instant. The major was still alternately yelling and mumbling incoherently as he flailed his arms around, struggling with an invisible assailant. McKay grabbed his arms and pinned them to his chest, leaning his weight forward to secure them. "Major! Major, wake up. You're dreaming."

Suddenly there were two other pairs of hands helping him. Nick and Kelly were there, helping him keep Sheppard from hurting himself and trying to calm him down. It took the three of them several minutes to get him awake enought to realize it was all a dream and that he was okay. Even then, McKay could see the fear in his eyes and that his body was still trembling, his gown and sheets wet with sweat. McKay wondered if you could smell fear, because he thought briefly maybe this was what it was like. Once he was sufficiently calm, Nick went about checking his vital signs and IV line. Satisfied, he looked down at Sheppard. "Everything seems okay. I'll get you something to help you go back to sleep."

"No." That simple word brought a stunned silence. The three people beside Sheppard's bed glanced at each other, each thinking maybe they had imagined it.

"Did you just say no?" asked Nick.

"I don't want to go back to sleep right now. I can't." Sheppard looked over at Rodney. "Can we talk?"

Rodney smiled. "Oh, yeah. That's kind of the point of me living here." McKay looked up at Nick. "I can take it from here."

Nick nodded, relief on his face. He couldn't wait to tell Carson. Sheppard may have eaten first on Carson's shift, but he spoke first on Nick's. Nick wasn't sure which was better, but he was glad to be there for one of the events. He nodded at Kelly, who was also smiling, and they left the two friends alone to talk.

Sheppard stared at McKay for several minutes. "You're really here...and okay...aren't you?"

McKay nodded, confusion apparent on his face. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Sheppard closed his eyes a second and shivered uncontrollably. McKay pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. "Dream. I guess it was a dream...Kavanagh was a wraith...and I found him killing you. There was...nothing left. And then he turned on me. I woke up as I was...dying." He shivered again.

"Well, I'm here with you and we are both fine. Kavanagh is in the wraith holding cell. As far as I know, he hasn't turned into a wraith. I wouldn't exactly call him human, but he's not a wraith." McKay paused a beat. "Why did you decide to talk?"

Sheppard looked at him quizzically. "You make it sound as though it was a conscious decision."

"Wasn't it?"

Sheppard looked hurt. "No...not really."

"Okay, how is it not a conscious decision to refuse to speak to anyone for days?" McKay looked confused.

Sheppard closed his eyes and struggled for a minute, trying to figure out how to put it into words. McKay thought he had drifted back off to sleep by the time he finally opened them again. "It's like...I wasn't really here. It was like being on the other side of one way glass...or maybe watching things happen in a dream. Sometimes people and conversations were very clear...and sometimes it was like watching blobs in a fog with background white noise. I didn't feel like I was actually here in the room. It was like I was watching from somewhere else. There wasn't enought of a connection for me to...understand what was going on half the time. Even when I did...I didn't seem to be able to feel or react to it. It was just...random drabble. It had no real meaning. I know that doesn't really make any sense. It doesn't to me either. I just...had trouble getting connected. I just mainly remember that as things slowly started seeping in, Elizabeth was here...I don't know...I don't really remember what she said or did, but it somehow seemed important and it...pulled on me. Then you...something about... responsibility...and...not leaving me behind..." Sheppard's voice hitched slightly and he looked away, embarrassed.

McKay put his hand on Sheppard's shoulder. "And I won't."

"McKay, I..." Sheppard suddenly pulled his right thigh up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his leg, pressing his head into his knee. He moaned softly as he closed his eyes against the pain.

"I'll get the doctor!" said Rodney, worry in his voice and on his face.

"No..." Sheppard managed to gasp. "I'll ...be...okay...min...ute..." He began rocking back and forth. and trembling, his arms tightening against the pain in his thigh muscles. McKay was on the verge of overriding him and calling for Nick when Sheppard finally seemed to start relaxing. Eventually, his breathing slowed and he let go of his leg. He didn't straighten it, however. He turned to his side facing McKay and brought both legs up to his chest, shivering slightly. McKay grabbed the blanket off his bed and threw it over Sheppard.

"Thanks," he said softly. "Cold all of a sudden."

"Well, no wonder. You're practically drenched. We should probably get you some dry clothes and sheets. I can get Nick and..."

"No...I'm good. I...don't feel like dealing with anyone else right now. I just need...some time to adjust." He brought his hand up and gently touched the fresh scar, tracing it's length down the right side of his head. His eyes seemed dark and his voice almost hoarse as he asked, "What happened?"

McKay looked uncomfortable. He had known this would come up eventually, but he had been hoping for later rather than sooner. Might as well grab the bull by the horns. "What do you remember about the last time you got sick?"

Sheppard had already thought this part out, so he answered immediately. "I think maybe I went out onto the balcony to think. I'm not sure, but I vaguely remember having a conversation with Elizabeth. That's it. I've tried and I can't remember anything else. Rodney...what did I do?"

McKay sighed heavily. "Sometime that morning, Kavanagh ran into you in the hall and slipped the stone into your pants pocket. He wanted to see what kind of effect it would have over a prolonged period and through clothing. It was in your pocket for a while before the meeting. During the meeting...well, your hands started shaking...kind of like that day in the mess hall. You knew immediately what was happening...:" McKay trailed off as the scene replayed in his head and he leaned forward, his head in his hands. He felt a touch on his knee and looked down to see Sheppard's hand. He was propped up on one elbow, the other other hand reaching out through the bedrails to touch McKay's knee.

"Tell me," he whispered. McKay could tell from the pain in his eyes that he already knew. He just needed someone to confirm it.

"You said you couldn't do it again...You drew your gun and brought it up to your head...Carson and I grabbed at your arm...I guess we deflected it enough..." Sheppard noticed how pale Rodney had become. Rodney's eyes were wide with fear as he remembered that day. "There was so much blood and ...I couldn't see...I thought you were dead." He shuddered. "I honestly thought you were dead. Don't you EVER do that to me again."

"I'm sorry, Rodney. ...I don't remember." He lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes. "I just don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sorry."

McKay sipped water from the cup on the table, trying to regain control of his emotions. He didn't want to upset Sheppard now that he was finally talking. "Kate and Carson seem to think it's an understandable reaction and a unique incident brought on by stress or panic or something."

"Well, I can promise you that it won't happen again. I still can't believe...Man...this stuff has me screwed up worse that I thought."

"HAD you screwed up. You're making real progress now. We'll have you on your feetin no time."

Sheppard looked back at McKay. "You think I can talk Beckett into a shower and some scrubs tomorrow? I feel really...gritty. After the nightmare sweats, I can't smell too sweet, either."

"Hey, with you talking **and** eating, you can probably have just about anything you want. Talking him into a shower and scrubs should be easy."

Sheppard nodded. He lay there for several minutes, silently staring at the ceiling. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

"It's like I told you - you trained me well. We don't leave people behind. And that includes you."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

I MUST apologize profusely for the terrible delay. RL has sucked like a big sour lemon lately and it could not be helped. Still, I'm sorry to leave you hanging like that. I'll try to never do that again.

Thanks to all who read and review. You've been my bright spot, as usual. Couldn't do it without you guys!

Emrys1 - I'm blushing. Seriously blushing. I think we should start reviewing your reviews. They are a story in themselves.

Rogue1503 - Special thanks for being beta to this chapter and adding some really neat stuff to a part that was seriously lacking. I owe you big time, girl!

Chapter 18

Carson Beckett strolled into the infirmary, finally feeling like he had gotten a good night's sleep. _This was going to be a good day_, he thought as he stepped into the room. He stopped short when he saw Nick and Kelly sitting behind the desk with their feet propped up on top of the furniture. Each held a cup of coffee and they were smiling smugly as they chatted and sipped their drink.

"Jest what do ya think yer doin?" asked Beckett, looking annoyed at the feet on the desk.

"I believe we are having coffee." Nick turned to Kelly. "Would you say we're having coffee?"

Kelly smiled broadly. "Why yes, doctor, I would definitely say that we are having coffee."

Carson was really looking irritated now. "You bloody well know what I mean. Why are yer feet all over the bloody desk?"

Nick looked back at Kelly. "He said bloody twice in one comment. We may be in trouble here."

Kelly nodded in agreement. "Think we should tell him the good news? Might make him a little less stressed."

Nick nodded back. "Actually, let's show him. You know what they say. A picture is worth a thousand words."

The two of them removed their feet from the table, set their coffee down, and got up, heading towards Beckett. Beckett looked more that a little nervous. "What? What are you doin'?"

They each looped their arm around one of his and began leading him down the row of beds. They headed towards the privacy curtains around the two beds Sheppard and McKay had been using. It had been arranged almost like a private room within the larger room. They could hear voices as they approached the area. A look of confusion crossed Beckett's face. Voices? Once they reached the opening into the "room", they paused and looked in.

Sheppard was propped up in the bed and McKay sat in the chair next to the bed. They both looked up at the figures in their "doorway". Sheppard smiled and said, "Hey, doc. When do we get fed around here?"

Beckett almost passed out. He certainly hadn't expected that. He looked at Nick, who was smiling impishly back at him. He knew he had just been set up. Trying to recover, he pulled his arms back away from the two conspirators. "Why, I'm sure we can get you something in the next few minutes. I think Dr. Strauhan and Kelly just volunteered to go get you both some breakfast."

Nick and Kelly looked at one another, their smile fading somewhat. "I knew it wouldn't last long," said Nick. "We might as well go rustle up some grub for these two."

Kelly frowned. "DId you actually just say rustle up some grub? I think you've seen too many westerns."

Nick's smile reappeared. "Hey, nothing wrong with a good western. Let's go hit the mess hall so we can get out of here before lunch." They turned and left, chuckling under their breath. Beckett just shook his head.

"You boys will have breakfast in no time." He paused a second. "Major Sheppard?" Sheppard looked back at him.

"Yeah, doc."

"Nice to have you back."

"Thanks! Hey. What are the chances of getting a shower and some scrubs?" Sheppard looked hopeful.

Beckett hesitated. "Let's see how you do after breakfast. Then I'll think about it." Sheppard nodded.

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Beckett finished his examination of Sheppard and was pleased. Now that the major was eating, his color was starting to look a lot better. His vital signs all looked good. "Well, I think we can get rid of the IV line now."

Sheppard brightened. "Really?"

Beckett nodded. The nurse set a tray down beside him and within a couple of minutes, he had removed the IV. Sheppard pressed a gauze pad against the puncture site. Beckett added a bandaid a minute later. "There we go."

"How about that shower and scrubs? I really hate these gowns. They're...drafty."

Beckett sighed as if he had been hoping to avoid this question. "You know you're awfully weak, major. Maybe we should wait until later this afternoon."

Sheppard looked like he might pout. "I'll be okay. McKay can help...like the last time." McKay nodded that he could do that. Beckett looked like he was thinking.

"Well...okay. I guess if Rodney helps. But make it a short one. You're probably weaker than the last time and you almost didn't make it through that one, as I recall. The fact that you are finally eating should help you start building your strength up."

"Speaking of eating, when do I get something besides soup or ...cream of mush...or whatever that mess was Nick picked me up for breakfast. That was...horrible." He made a face to emphasize the bad taste.

"Sorry, major. We have to move slowly so we don't shock your digestive system too bad. You'll be on soft foods for a day or two. I'll try to find something a little more appetizing for lunch, though. We'll get you to real food eventually. Just be patient. I'll get your scrubs."

John nodded. Beckett returned a few minutes later with the scrubs. He and McKay stood Sheppard up, much like they had almost two weeks before. Once he was standing and had his balance, the major toddled off to the bathroom with McKay walking behind. This time McKay didn't resist the urge to comment. "Ohhhhh! I'm being struck blind...no...wait...it's okay. I'm just being flashed by the major. Hello. You might try covering yourself, up there."

Sheppard never even slowed down (although if he had gone any slower, he would have been standing still). "Jealous, McKay. You're just jealous. Besides...no one said you had to look."

McKay grinned from ear to ear. He knew Major Sheppard was on his way back.

They made their way into the bathroom and McKay went about stowing the scrubs and the towel out of the way. He checked the shower stall for soap and then turned back to Sheppard. The major was staring in the mirror. He just stood there for a few moments and McKay began to wonder if he had zoned out. Then he took his hand and gently traced the scar on the side of his head. McKay had forgotten...Sheppard hadn't seen it yet. He began to wish he hadn't been so eager to help out.

Sheppard stared at the red, slightly puckered scar. It started about an inch behind his eye and ran along the right side of his head to a place about an inch behind his ear. They had shaved the area around the wound, giving him a somewhat lopsided appearance. Tiny hairs were just beginning to grow back in around the scar. He gently ran his finger along the scar - still somewhat tender. McKay grimaced when Sheppard, almost trancelike before the mirror, made a gun shape with his right hand and held it to his temple, as if about to fire. "Bang," he said softly. McKay flinched. Sheppard put his hand back down to his side and continued to look in the mirror. "Do you think I'm crazy Rodney?" he asked, his voice so low that McKay almost didn't hear him.

"No...Do you think you're crazy?" Rodney asked, worried. He was starting to get spooked. Sheppard had been so light a minute ago to now be so dark.

"No...yes...maybe...I don't know any more." He turned around, the amused expression from a few minutes ago replaced by a much more sober one. "I better take that shower now. I'm getting tired." McKay just nodded, unsure of what else to do.

Sheppard didn't stay in the shower long, his energy failing fast. He was happy when he was able to dress himself and, at first, thought he might make it back to the bed unaided. McKay followed close at his side, realizing that Sheppard was near the end of his energy burst. Sure enough, about five steps from the bathroom, Sheppard's knees buckled. McKay caught him and put his right arm around the major's waist. "I've got you," he said simply. Sheppard nodded. They slowly made their way back to the bed, Sheppard struggling every step to support his weight as much as possible.

Beckett, standing beside the major's freshly made bed, started forward to help. McKay caught his eye, however, and ever so slightly shook his head. Beckett gave an almost imperceptable nod and stayed where he was. They both understood that this had been about more than taking a shower and that Sheppard needed to get back to bed under as much of his own power as possible. This had been about taking back control of his life and about getting back on his feet. He needed to know he had done most of it under his own steam. It was part of the healing.

As Beckett and McKay helped an exhausted Major Sheppard back into bed, Dr. Weir approached them. She knew the popular theory about getting to scrubs and she also knew how much they all hated the hospital gowns.

"Scrubs! Looks like things are looking up," she commented.

"Yeah, got scrubs and a shower." The exhaustion showed on his face as he gave a feeble smile.

Beckett looked at his patient, a little worried at the change in demeanor, as well as the tiredness in his features. "You need to rest, major. Are you in any pain?" He had noticed Sheppard shaking slightly as he had helped him into bed.

"No...I'm good. Just a little stiff and sore. I'm fine."

Beckett nodded. "Let me know if you need somethin' to sleep or for pain. You guys need to let him get some rest."

"Elizabeth," Sheppard said. "Can you stay a minute?" Elizabeth looked over at Beckett. He finally nodded.

"All right, major. She can stay a few minutes. Rodney, why don't you take a break for a little while?"

McKay yawned. "Maybe I could use a little nap in my own bed. Someone kept me up talking most of the night." He looked impishly at Sheppard.

Elizabeth smiled. It was so good to hear John finally talking. "I thought only girls sat up all night talking."

"Common misconception," said McKay as he waved his hand absently. "We just stay up talking about manly things instead of all that mushy stuff. I'll see you later, major." McKay walked towards the door to the infirmary, yawning as he went.

Beckett looked at Elizabeth, a warning in his eyes. "Only a few minutes." She nodded. Satisfied she understood that he meant business, he left them alone.

Elizabeth walked over to stand next to Sheppard, almost instictively clasping his hand in hers. About the time she realized what she had done, she noticed that he was holding onto her hand as well. He looked up at her with sad, tired eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Rodney told me...I don't remember..." He looked away from her, realizing the pain he must have caused her. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth." For a moment, he wished the earth would just open up and swallow and he wouldn't have to deal with any of this.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. Part of her was really mad at him for the nearly deadly stunt in the conference room and yet part of her was just so glad that he was alive. He obviously didn't remember what had happened, and yet he was very upset about the realization that he really had shot himself. She placed her other hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, John. I know what you did was...well, it's just not you. Those were very extenuating circumstances...circumstances that will NEVER come again. We'll see to that. No one blames you...we just didn't want to lose you."

He continued to face away from her. "I think maybe you have anyway." He said it so softly that she wasn't even sure she heard him correctly.

"Don't say that. Look at me, John." He didn't move. "Please..." He slowly turned his head back to meet her gaze, pain in his eyes. "We haven't lost you. You're still in there...you've just got to give yourself some time. It's probably not going to be easy. But I know you can do it and we're here for you every step of the way."

He nodded. "Thanks." He didn't quite look or sound convinced, but he didn't look as downcast as before. He shifted in the bed and grimaced as he tried to rub the muscles in his shoulder and neck.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just a little sore and stiff. I just can't seem to shake it. I'm hoping it'll get better as Beckett lets me get up and move around a little more."

"Turn over on your side and put your back to me."

He looked at her funny, his head cocked slightly to one side. "I think my mom may have taught me that would be rude."

She smiled. "Just do it. Don't worry...I won't bite."

"You're sure about that?" he asked as he turned on his side with his back to her.

"Positive."

"Only fools are positive," he replied. She shook her head at the strange mood swing. This was going to take a while to work out. She leaned forward and began massaging his neck and shoulders. She could feel the muscles bunched up and tight beneath her fingers. He groaned, but it definitely wasn't in pain.

"Mmmmmmm. Anyone ever tell you that you have gifted fingers?" he asked, surprised at how much his aching muscles responded to her touch, craving the feel of her. With a sigh he slid gently over on to his belly, turning his head away on the pillow and closing his eyes, concentrating on her voice, and her touch.

"Yes," she replied as she kneaded the muscles in his shoulders and back. "As a matter of fact, I have. My mom used to have me give her a massage after a long day. She always teased and said I could probably make a fine living at this. No wonder you're sore. You're muscles are really tense." She worked in silence for a few minutes, working her way down his back, trying to rub the tension from the muscles. Finally, her fingers exhausted and starting to cramp, she stopped. "How's that?" Getting no response, she leaned over and looked at Sheppard's face. "John?" It was then that she noticed the steady, even breathing. He was deeply asleep, and for a brief moment in his relaxed features she could see a glimmer of the old John Sheppard.

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Sheppard suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as beads of sweat ran down the sides of his face and neck. He brought his hand up to the right side of his face and felt the blood flowing rapidly between his fingers and down his arm. His heart racing, he brought his hand back down in front of him. There was no blood. He sat there dazed for a second, trying to figure out what had happened.

He was still sitting there staring at his hand when Beckett and Heightmeyer rounded the privacy curtain to his "room". Beckett immediately realized he was in distress. Sheppard was still breathing hard and the color had drained from his face. The room was beginning to spin, making him nauseous, andBeckett barely got a small utility pan in front of himbefore he vomited. It continued until his stomach was completely empty and a little beyond. Beckett called for the nurse as he lay the pan down and helped the major lay back in the bed.

"Just try to breathe slow and easy, major. You've got to relax." He took Sheppard's pulse as he talked soothingly to him, noting that he was shaking badly. He was thankful to see the major's breathing was beginning to return to normal as he lay with his eyes shut. The nurse returned in a few minutes with a cool, damp cloth and begin to gently wipe the sweat from his face. The coolness felt good against his skin and he felt his stomach begin to settle. He finally opened his eyes.

He realized Kate Heightmeyer was there. Why did he have to do this with her there to witness it. It was only going to complicate things. "Enjoying the show?" he asked sarcastically. He regretted it almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. _Way to go, Sheppard. Make things worse. _

Her expression remained neutral. "Hello, major. I just came by to see if we could talk."

He really didn't want to talk to her, but he knew he would have to eventually. "I'm guessing I don't have a choice in this."

"You have choices. We can talk now, or if you don't feel well, I can come back later. But you do have to talk to me eventually. We didn't get very far the last time I was here."

Sheppard looked confused. "The last time?"

"Yes, I was here once before, but we had a rather one-sided conversation. Don't you remember?"

Sheppard started to shake his head, but the sharp pain that stabbed through him convinced him that was not a good idea. He was just beginning to realize he had a hum-dinger of a headache. He felt like a vise was being tightened across his temples, the pain radiating down the back of his head and into his neck. "No...I don't remember." He closed his eyes and gently rubbed his left temple.

"Are ya all right, lad?" asked Beckett, concerned.

"Yeah...bit of a headache. I'm okay." Sheppard opened his eyes again and looked at Heightmeyer. "Let's get this over with."

"I can bring ya somethin' for the headache," offered Beckett.

Sheppard put one hand on his stomach. "No...I don't think I want anything in my stomach just yet. And I've had enough needles to last me a while. I think I'll just ride it out."

Beckett nodded. "Let me know if ya change your mind." He patted Sheppard's hand in an attempt to comfort and left.

"So, where do we start?" asked Sheppard.

"Why don't you tell me about the dream you just had." she said. Sheppard frowned. This was turning into a long day.

TBC

I have to explain the "Only fools are positive" comment. It's from the movie "Fern Gully". When my two oldest daughters were younger, we watched "Fern Gully" many times. One character (Batty) tells another (Zack) that "only fools are positive". It caught on and whenever someone would say they were positive, you would always hear the reply, "Only fools are positive." So when I typed the line about being positive, guess what popped into my head? I just couldn't help but type it in. Go watch "Fern Gully". Yes, it's a sappy rainforest movie, but I love it - especially Robin Williams as Batty.


	19. Chapter 19

Big note of thanks to all of you. I absolutely could not have made it this far without you. I love this place. We're getting there. I just tend to take the scenic path. Guess you kind of figured that out.

Out of Phase - I'm not familiar with "Must be Thursday", but I'll be looking for it.

Chapter 19

Sheppard was exhausted by the time Heightmeyer left. His head was now throbbing so badly that his vision had grayed around the edges and he was starting to feel nauseous again. Slight muscle tremors fleeted through his body, a now familiar reaction to stress. He rolled over on his side and curled up in a ball, afraid to fall asleep. It seemed like every time he went to sleep, he was jolted awake by nightmares or muscle cramps. Thoughts of the last nighmare danced across his mind as he saw himself bringing the gun up to head, felt the cold metal against the temple, and then the burst of pain as the bullet entered. In his dream, he died, so he didn't think any of it was an actual memory. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any less frightening or horrifying. He shivered, suddenly cold, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. He just wanted it all to go away. He couldn't understand why he was having such a hard time putting this behind him. He closed his eyes and bowed his head down into his chest, partially covering his face with the covers.

As Sheppard was curling into himself, Beckett, Heightmeyer, and Weir were meeting his Beckett's office. Weir closed the door as she entered. This conversation was for them only.

She took a seat by Heightmeyer. "What can you tell me?" They could both see the worry on her face.

"It's going to take a while. Just like his physical recuperation, his mental one won't happen overnight either. Nightmares and depression appear to be a current problem, but that's to be expected. He seems to be having a particularly hard time with the shooting incident. I don't think he remembers it, and probably never will due to the head injury, but he's fabricated a likeness of the event in his mind. He's...basically horrified by it. The major has fought his way back from death kicking and screaming so many times that he can't fathom the thought of taking his own life under any circumstances. He worries so much about failing everyone else...and now he feels that he's failed himself as well."

"I take it he's not a danger to himself then?" asked Elizabeth.

"I don't think so. I think it may be a while before he can even pick up a gun. Although the shooting is the biggest problem, there are also issues with the days and days of being trapped, basically alone, in a world of umimaginable pain. Carson...I have some bad news for you."

Beckett looked grim, knowing what Heightmeyer was going to say before she said it. "He knew, didn't he?"

Heightmeyer nodded. "Not on a conscious level. He just knows that at some point, the pain seemed to become even more unbearable because he felt like he was choking and he couldn't move. His way of coping with the intense cramps was to move the muscle with the cramp to get it to amore manageablelevel...and he said at some point he felt like he was being held down...like he couldn't move. He..."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Just say it," Beckett said.

"He...thought maybe he lost his mind during that time. He said a part of him checked out...and he thinks maybe it's gone for good. I don't believe that...but he does. We're going to have to work to get the old John Sheppard back...and we have to face the fact that he may never be completely the same. It's a little early to tell...but I think we need to be on the lookout for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He's showing some of the signs - the detachment, nightmares, trouble sleeping. It's too early to tell if it will escalate to that. We have to give him some time to deal with it. I just think we need to watch and keep that in mind. If he goes that direction, the sooner we catch it and start treatment, the better the chance of recovery."

They nodded. "What can we do for now?" asked Elizabeth.

"Encourage him to talk about it and share how he feels, but without pushing. Provide support. Don't act disappointed in him because of the way he's dealing with things or because of the shooting. Try to shift discussions to less stressful subjects if he seems to be getting too distressed. Just be there for him. He needs to know he's still needed and trusted." They nodded. "I'd like to speak to him a few more times. I really got more out of him than I thought I would. I think I may have caught him off guard and when he wasn't feeling very well, but that worked to my advantage. I doubt that will happen again."

Elizabeth nodded. "Talk to him as much as you feel necessary. I can make it an order if I need to. He knows he can't get clearance for the gate or active duty without agreement from all three of us. If push comes to shove, I'm not afraid of using that card. It's not like I haven't used it before." She turned to Carson. "How's the physical recovery coming?"

"He's makin' progress. He's till very weak, but he's eatin' again, so that should help...that is when he keeps it down."

"Wait...what's going on?" asked Elizabeth, worried.

Beckett sighed. "When I took Kate to see the major, he was just waking up from a nightmare. I guess it shook him up pretty good, because he promptly gave up his last meal. I'm hoping that was an isolated incident."

"Okay...is there anything else?" Elizabeth stood up to leave as Beckett and Heightmeyer shook their head. "I...think I'll just look in on him before I leave. Let me know if you think of anything else." Beckett and Heightmeyer looked at each other and smiled.

Elizabeth walked quietly over to John's little corner and peered around the curtain to see John curled up on his side, facing away from her. She suspected he was asleep and almost turned and left. But she didn't. Finally, she walked slowly around the bed and sat down in "Rodney's chair". As she had suspected, he was asleep, but it was a fitful sleep at best. She could see small muscle twitches in his face and hands as he mumbled softly and incoherently. She briefly wondered if she should wake him. Instead, she just sat and watched him, content that she would be there if he woke and needed her. An hour later, he finally fell into a peaceful slumber, the mumbling and twitching now gone. Elizabeth stood, gently stroked his cheek with the back of her hand, and headed for her office, thinking about the nice pile of work waiting on her desk.

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Sheppard woke to a throbbing headache and the taste of old vomit. So not a good way to wake up. He tried to suspend the strong gag reflex that tickled its way into the back of his throat and ended up in the throws of a coughing fit. He struggled to sit up and catch his breath through the coughing while simultaneously trying to get his eyes open. This day just kept getting worse and worse...if indeed it was still the same day. He felt hands helping him sit up and after a minute, the coughing subsided and he could breathe again. About the time he finally got his eyes open, McKay had a straw to his lips. He started to take the cup from McKay, but realized that his hands were shaking so badly he would undoubtedly spill water everywhere. Not feeling strong enough for another shower, he let McKay continue to hold the cup while he drank.

"Thanks, McKay," he said when he was through, his voice sounding low and hoarse in his ears. "Really bad taste in my mouth."

McKay snorted. "Probably left over from that mess they fed you for breakfast."

Sheppard nodded and gave a small smile. "In a way...that's exactly what it was."

"How are ya feelin' lad?" Beckett stood on the other side of the bed from McKay, the other set of helping hands. Now that Sheppard was finished drinking and had stopped coughing, Beckett helped him ease back down against the pillows. He had raised the head of the bed somewhat so that Sheppard was sitting.

"A lot better now that I can breathe. Still got that headache." He closed his eyes a second and massaged his temples gently. being extra careful to avoid actually touching the scar beginning on his right temple.

"Aye, I was afraid of that, so I brought ya somethin'." Sheppard looked up and Beckett handed him a pill. "It's a mega-ibuprofen. I think it will help. Are you hungry?"

Sheppard made a face, frowning at the sour taste still in his mouth. "Not really...but I might could get something down." Rodney was back with the cup of water so Sheppard could take the pain reliever.

Beckett nodded his approval. "You really need to eat somethin' if ya can, lad. You missed lunch and breakfast didn't exactly stay with ya. I'll send out for somethin'. What about you, Rodney?"

"You're actually offering? Wow, I'm flattered. But...no...I ate before I came back. Well...wait...maybe just a little something to tide me over. No telling how long I'll be here and all. Just have them get me a tray...you know...in case my blood sugar drops or something."

Beckett looked at Sheppard and sighed. He was glad to see the major smile back at him, nodding in understanding. "Fine, Rodney, I'll have them bring you a tray." Beckett turned and left. They heard him talking to someone a minute later, and then Ford and Teyla showed up in the "doorway".

"Hey, sir. Glad to see you're awake. We stopped by earlier, but you were napping."

Sheppard thought about that for a second. "Napping. That either sounds like I'm really old or really young."

McKay snorted. "Behavior wise, I'd go for really young. But compared to Ford, here, it's more like really old. Take your pick."

Sheppard rolled his eyes in exasperation. "McKay, I wasn't asking for opinions on the matter." Sheppard flung the covers back and started scooting to the edge of the bed, as if to get up. McKay leaped to his feet as Ford and Teyla looked concerned.

"Hold on, big guy, exactly what do you think you're doing?"

Sheppard sat on the edge of the bed, McKay and Ford standing in front of him as if to block his way. "Get a grip, McKay, I'm not making a break for it or anything. I've ...gotta go...you know."

"Oh," said McKay, as he realized what Sheppard was doing. "Well, let us help you up at least." He and Ford each grabbed an arm. They held onto him a few seconds as he got his legs balanced beneath him. Steady, he pushed their arms away and started forward.

"I'm good. I've got it." They watched him shuffle tiredly to the restroom, resisting the urge to follow closely behind him. McKay knew he needed to start doing things for himself. He felt like a parent turning their toddler loose to bump around on their own for the first time. _This is so sad,_ he thought. He was just about ready to go check on Sheppard when the door opened and the major shuffled back out and toward the trio watching him.

McKay couldn't resist a jab. "So, you DID remember to wash your hands, right?"

"Funny, McKay. No, I did not wash my hands just so I could go through and touch all the food on your tray. I'm sure you'll get _E. coli _or something worse." The trio watched Sheppard struggle to make the last few steps without help, but he did it. Each one of them smiled at the small victory. As Sheppard got settled in the bed and looked up, he noticed their expressions. "What is with you guys? You're grinning like the Cheshire cat. Did I miss something?"

"No major," said Teyla. "We are all just glad to have you back."

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Sheppard looked up from his book to find both Carson Beckett and Nick Strauhan approaching his bed. He closed the book and looked from one to the other, trying to read their expressions. Usually when he had both men attending him it was because he was in cardiac arrest or something equally as fun, so he was just a little nervous.

"Uh, guys...what's going on?" he asked nervously.

Beckett smiled and waved his hand at him. "Relax, major. Nothing bad. We just wanted to run something by you. What happened to Rodney?" Beckett asked, looking around the small cubicle. His eyes landed on Sheppard's half-eaten tray of food, causing Sheppard to wince. He'd been caught.

"I told him to leave. He can't stay here forever and I don't really need a babysitter any more. I told him we needed to try to get back to some kind of a normal life...well, him anyway. I can't do that till I get out of here. I don't guess you have any projections on when that might be, do you?"

"No, but it'll be a while yet. I can tell ya that it'll be faster if ya eat more that half a tray at a time." Beckett nodded his head toward the tray that had been pushed aside earlier.

Sheppard closed his eyes and rubbed them, longing for the day when he didn't need help going to the bathroom or deciding how much food he would eat. "Judgement call. I figured half a tray of mush...er, food ...that stayed down was better than a whole tray of food that had a round trip ticket. And believe me, that's where I was headed." He put his hand down and looked at Beckett, who nodded. Thank goodness, that battle was over. "So...what'd you want to run by me?"

Carson nodded at Nick, giving him the floor. "We've been talking about the residual muscle spasms and cramps you've been having. I was thinking about some things a physical therapist friend of mine told me..."

"Am I interrupting?" They all looked up to see Elizabeth standing the the "doorway", curious expression on her face.

"No, come on in. The doctors were just about to share some information with me and, to be perfectly honest, this tag team approach has me a little nervous. I could use a little back-up." Sheppard waved his hand at the vacant seat on the other side of the bed.

"I'd be happy to oblige." She sat in the chair and smiled warmly at John. His stomach settled a little and some of the nervousness fell away as watched her. Part of him wanted to reach out and take her hand, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Okay, doc, you were saying." He looked back at the doctors.

Nick continued. "A physical therapist friend told me that repeated muscle stress can cause a build-up of lactic acid that causes calcification or muscle knots. Some people think this can harbor body toxins and release them periodically, causing muscle problems. The calcium in the muscle can keep the muscle kind of turned on, which can be very painful. I'd say you've had a traumatic version of muscle stress. A lot of it is just soreness from the repeated hard contractions of the muscles, but these calcified knots, if they are forming, can cause other problems. We think we can work on those, as well as the general soreness, at the same time."

"Ooo-kaay, so what do we do?" Sheppard asked.

"Some regular light exercise, starting with just a small walk around the room a few times a day. We'll build the walks and some other exercises to lightly, and I stress lightly, get the muscles moving. A series of massages during the day will work out some of the tension and can start getting rid of some of the tight places and developing knots. Proper diet once we have you on solid food. Drink lots of water. You're going to be flushing metabolic toxins from your system, so I want you to drink several glasses of water a day."

Sheppard grimaced. "Well, there's your light walking. A trip to the bathroom every 30 minutes should cover that pretty well. Is that it?"

Nick nodded. "For now. It's not going to make them stop immediately, but hopefully we'll taper off at a consistant, regular interval. I think it will speed up the recovery process. Now all we have to do is find you a masseuse. We didn't bring any physical therapy people with us - didn't seem necessary at the time."

"Uh, I think I can help with that," said Elizabeth.

"Oh, yeah. The lady has the magic touch, that's for sure."

Beckett and Strauhan raised their eyebrows as they looked at one another, surprise on their faces.

"Nothing like that!" said Sheppard. "My back and neck were stiff this morning and she massaged them for me. Little piece of heaven, I've got to tell you." He smiled, remembering the comfort in her touch and wanting to return its pleasure.

"All right, then," said Beckett. "I think we have a volunteer."

"Good," replied Nick. "I'll work on a schedule tonight and maybe we can start really trying to get you back on your feet tomorrow." The two doctors stood up and nodded at the two, smiles on their faces because now they had a plan to help their patient. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks doc and doc," said Sheppard, his smile returning. He turned back to Elizabeth to find her watching him.

"And just what are you looking at?" he asked.

"Your smile. I haven't seen it much lately. I kind of missed it."

"I'm working on it," he said sheepishly. "I know I've a ways to go...but I'm working on it...I really am."

"I know you are...just don't give up. Hey, nothing says you have to wait until tomorrow. Want another go with the magic fingers?" She grinned and winked, wiggling her fingers at him.

Sheppard's smile returned. "You won't have to ask me that twice." He turned over on his stomach and got comfortable while she moved in close beside him. As soon as her hands began working on his shoulders and neck, he felt sweet release. He could almost see the tension letting go as she firmly worked each muscle before moving on to the next. His muscles were so sore that the kneading action rode that precarious border between pain and pleasure, always just edging out on the side of pleasure. He found himself focusing on each finger motion...the release in each muscle. His mind began to drift as the relaxation spread throughout his upper body and he found himself riding waves once again...but these weren't waves of pain... and he let go...letting them carry him far away.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

My lower jaw just hit the floor. Four hundred reviews. Wow. I think this will fit nicely under the heading "Best Lifetime Experiences". You guys are so totally awesome and MANY THANKS! Now - I don't know if this is good news or bad news, but I've had a few suggestions that I liked and I kind of got my second wind on this thing and I think we may go a few more chapters. Yesterday I was thinking this would be the last chapter, but then my mind ran amuck. I promise this will end...just not today.

Warning: If you don't like Sheppard/Weir stuff, you might want to skip down to the first dotted line. I couldn't help myself.

Rogue1503-I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks for all your support, suggestions, help, and for listening to my incessant whining about not knowing what to do. In other words, thanks for keeping me sane (well, almost sane).

Chapter 20

John Sheppard was pretty sure he had never been this tired in his entire life. Beckett and Strauhan had worked him hard the last two days and the exhaustion was catching up to him. He was thoroughly convinced that both men were possessed by demons intent on torturing him every way possible. After discussing their thoughts on his recovery two days before, they had spent the better part of the night planning Sheppard's physical therapy. He had heard them talking excitedly like they had discovered the cure for cancer or something equally as impressive. The next day they had held him to rigid schedule of walking, exercises, and massages. He would do exercises to work his lower body in the morning, followed by a massage for those muscles. After lunch he worked muscles in the upper body and then Elizabeth massaged those muscles. The next day, they switched the order. They worked the muscles in groups and took him on short walks between the workouts. Every time he got a break from the activities, they were shoving food or water in front of him or someone was there to "have a talk" with him. Sprinkle in the mix about a thousand trips to the bathroom, and that just about summed up his day. The good thing was that he had been so exhausted last night that he had slept all night - something highly unusual for him at any time, much less lately. He knew he still had to make it through one more thing tonight, but his eyelids were getting unusually heavy and he felt himself beginning to drift off.

"John?" He snapped his eyes open to see Elizabeth smiling at him.

"Hey! Just dozing a second. I think even my hair is tired." He placed his hand over his mouth as he yawned.

"We have one more date today."

"I'm too tired to move. Maybe we could just skip this one. I won't tell if you won't."

Elizabeth had to admit, he did look tired. "I'm not risking the wrath of Carson or Nick. Those guys are like a couple of kids with new toys."

Sheppard nodded slightly. "Tell me about it. I'm the one having to live with it. They keep talking about writing a paper and presenting it and I'm thinking, who would you present it to? I just wish they'd calm down before they kill me. If I wasn't so tired, I'd be planning an escape."

Elizabeth chuckled. "It wouldn't do any good. They'd just hunt you down. I think we work on lower body tonight. I can start with the front of your legs if you want so you won't have to move for a few minutes."

Sheppard sighed. "Doesn't make me any difference, as long as I don't have to move. I don't think it matters much where you start. They don't seem too picky about form, just on keeping their schedule and drowning me in fluids. I've never drank so much in my whole life. So are you assigned to get me to talk, too, or just to the massage?"

"Just the massage."

John looked relieved. "Good. I'm about talked out. Teyla, Ford, and McKay have all been here with their gentle, yet probing questions. And then there's Kate Heightmeyer."

"You know they're just trying to help, don't you?" she inquired.

"Yeah, I know. That's the only reason I'm not furious. Let's not talk about it any more. Let's just do the massage thing so I can go to sleep. I'm about too pooped to pop."

Elizabeth moved over to the right side of the bed, looking a little uncomfortable. She was only used to giving friends or family massages of the neck, shoulders, and back. Nick and Carson hadher working on most of John's body and it made her nervous. They had given her some material to read on techniques designed to relieve stress and tension and she was glad to find that it included most of what she did anyway, as well as some additional methods she had been unfamiliar with. She was trying to follow the instructions in the articles about the proper way to work the muscles. This was strictly to help John's muscles recover from the trauma of the past few weeks as well as the physical therapy sessions they were putting him through. And yet there was something very personal about what she was doing...especially since there had been an attraction between them almost from the very beginning. The feel of his muscles beneath her hands was almost electrical in nature and she was just a little afraid of it.

Sensing her nervousness, John reached out and put his hand on her arm, smiling. "Thanks for doing this for me. I know you're really busy and you're probably getting hopelessly behind running down here several times a day. I guess I'll owe you a big one."

"Hardly. Not as many times as you've saved my life, not to mention saving Atlantis a few times as well. I'm just glad I can actually make a contribution for once instead of just sitting on the sidelines. Besides, it gives me a chance to spend time with you...uh,...you know...since we're friends."

John gave her the lop-sided grin that she had come to love and she felt a warmth flowing through her and rushing up to her face. "Uh...okay...let's get started then."

Looking down and avoiding his gaze, she gently began kneading the muscles in his upper right thigh. She had been working only a few minutes when her arm accidently brushed against his groin and she jerked back, embarrassment coloring her face. "Oh...sorry..." She quickly moved her hands farther down his thigh, closer to the knee and concentrated with all her might. She could feel the droplets of sweat beginning to run down her back as she carefully avoided his eyes.

Sheppard, in the meantime, was putting his own version of the avoidance game into play. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes and tried not to think about the firm touch of her hands as they worked circular patterns into his thigh muscles. He could smell her and it was making him almost dizzy. Not perfume. It must be her soap or her shampoo - a clean, vibrant, yet subtle smell with an almost inperceptible hint of some kind of flower. He breathed it in deeply...he breathed _her_ in deeply. Since when had the infirmary been hot? He usually froze when he was stuck in here and yet he could feel the thin film of sweat on his brow. He was trying to decide whether to let her continue or not when he felt the tremor begin in the muscles of his inner right thigh. _Oh crap, here we go again, _he thought. The muscle suddenly tightened and he jerked forward as he pulled his leg up and away from Elizabeth, trying to rub the tight, clamping contractions out of his thigh.

Elizabeth was startled at first, but soon figured out what was going on. She batted John's hands away and began working the muscle in earnest. She could feel the muscle spasm beneath her hands as she pressed firmly into it, trying to work the tightness out. He groaned a little and pressed his back into the bed, trying not to pull away from her as she worked to relieve the pain burning through his thigh. Little by little, he felt the spasm lighten and the muscle begin to relax. He hadn't realized how hard he had been breathing until now. His pulse didn't begin to slow just yet though...Elizabeth was still rubbing the muscles in his thigh.

"Elizabeth..." She paused at the sound of his voice, low and soft and so...different. She stopped her motions, realizing that the spasm had calmed, and turned to look at him. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to his side, looking at his eyes. The same eyes that she had earlier avoiding looking into. She wondered what color they really were. Sometimes they looked green, sometimes gray, and sometimes hazel. She had somehow never noticed how utterly fascinating they were.

"Elizabeth...you're going to have to stop now," he said quietly. "I ...I can't do this any more."

"Hmmmmm," she whispered. "Neither can I."

They sat looking at each other for several minutes. Neither knew what to say...neither wanted the moment to end. She instinctively reached up and cradled the side of his face in her hand, relishing the touch of his skin against hers. Her breath caught in her throat and her mind screamed at her to run...to run before it was too late to take it back. Run before she crossed a line that would forever change things between them. And yet, she couldn't move. She found it hard to even breathe. So she didn't pull away when he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close with a strength that surprised her. He stopped with their faces just inches apart, his eyes locked onto hers. She could hear his breath coming almost as heavy and labored as her own and felt him tremble sightly against her. He was just as scared as she was and she took comfort in that thought.

She closed her eyes and they slowly drew closer, his lips lightly brushing hers. He pulled back a little and looked at her again, his eyes asking if she was sure. She traced his lips with her index finger, noticing every feature of his face. She had looked at his face a thousand times over the past few months, and yet this felt like the first time she had actually seen it. She had known this moment was inevitable for some time, and yet still part of her screamed to stop...to go back. But in her heart she knew it was already too late and there was no turning back. Sensing her acceptance, he leaned forward and kissed her, wrapping both arms around her as she embraced him back. After a few moments, she pulled away and lay her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he held her.

"We can't do this, you know," she stated simply, her head still resting against his chest.

"I know." She was relieved to find there was no surprise in his voice. They both knew full well what they're responsibilities were and how important they were to the survival of Atlantis. They had allowed themselves a brief...fantasy. But they were both painfully aware that, for now, that was all it could be.

He lay there after she left, wishing there was some way to fill the void. It had been much easier to ignore when it was just quick glances and light touches that could easily have been exchanges between friends. He felt as if he had found part of himself, only to lose it again. They couldn't be together now, but that didn't mean there wouldn't come a time...he could wait. He was exhausted and yet he couldn't sleep. He lay there for several hours...still feeling her...still smelling her. When he finally drifted off, it was to a deep, dreamless sleep.

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The doors swooshed open and Sheppard stood on the threshold to his quarters looking in. It had been so long since he had been here, it felt empty and abandoned. He silently wondered if Atlantis had dust bunnies, and if so, how frightening were the ones that were bound to have taken up residence here. He forced himself to walk in and listened as the doors swooshed closed behind him. He looked around...it didn't feel like home any more. He almost yearned for the infirmary and all the people that he thought he'd grown tired of. It had felt...safe...friendly...comfortable. This was cold and empty and depressing. He looked down at his desk to find his gun and holster. He knew the clothes he'd been wearing that day were a total loss. He was almost down to his last uniform. He was going to have to have a talk with the infirmary staff about cutting uniforms off. Until they got a connection back to earth, some of them were running a bit short on clothing.

He picked up the weapon, feeling the cold, hard metal in his hand. He stood staring at it, noticing how it felt in his grip. After checking to be sure it wasn't loaded, he examined the end of the barrel. Someone had thoroughly cleaned it - no blood. He closed his eyes a minute, trying to remember. He wanted to understand why he had thought that putting a gun to his head was the only answer. Opening his eyes, he walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He took the empty gun and put it up to his temple, desperately trying to remember something he was beginning to think he'd never understand. He felt the cold metal of the gun barrel against the scar on the right side of his head and he shuddered. His hand began to shake violently and he dropped the gun to the floor as he ran from his quarters, desperate to be anywhere else but here.

He rushed down the hall, oblivious to everyone he passed. Finally reaching the door to the balcony, he almost ran out into the fresh air, breathing deeply as he gripped the rail. His head was spinning and he could feel the nausea rising up his throat as his hands trembled against the metal railing. He closed his eyes, willing his stomach to settle and the world to be still and his head to stop throbbing. He was sure for a minute that his legs would buckle and he'd be on the floor in a minute, so he leaned heavily against the rail he was gripping. Things were just beginning to settle when he heard the door behind him open. _Oh please, not now,_ he thought.

"Hey you, Carson said he had released you. I went to your..." He still hadn't opened his eyes because he was afraid if he watched the world spin he'd lose out to the nausea, but he recognized the voice. It was Elizabeth. "John.." she gasped. "I'm calling Carson."

"No!" He was surprised at the strength in his voice. He grit his teeth and opened his eyes. "It's okay. I just got a little dizzy. I'm okay now."

She looked at his pale face, pained expression, and trembling hand gripping the rail and didn't believe a word of it. "You are most certainly not okay. John, you're about to pass out. I'm calling Carson." She reached up to hit her radio, but he intercepted her hand.

"Please...don't call him. I need to be out of there. I'll never get it together if I don't get out and try. It's just...hard sometimes. I'm okay, though...really."

She looked into the pleading eyes and knew he was right. She put her hand on his hand. "Okay, I won't call. Please tell me you'll go back to your quarters and rest. You're still a little weak."

He nodded. "I will in a minute. I just needed...some fresh air. It was a little...tight in there. I'll go back in a bit, I promise." She didn't look convinced, so he put his hooked index finger under her chin and lifted until their eyes met. "I will go back to my quarters in a few minutes and I will rest - I promise."

She didn't look happy, but she nodded in agreement anyway. "Okay. Do you want me to stay?"

"No, I think I just need some time to myself. I haven't really had much of that in a while. I just need it...out here. I have to think...to sort some things out."

Elizabeth nodded, still not happy. "Okay, then, I'll leave. Call me if you need me?"

He smiled. "I'll see you later. How about dinner tonight?"

"Okay...it's a date...well... that is, ...yes, let's have dinner. I'll see you around six in the mess hall." He nodded and she reluctantly turned and left.

He turned back to the ocean and felt the breeze blow across him for several minutes before placing his back to the wall and sliding down to a sitting position on the floor. With his legs bent up to his chest, he rested his forehead on his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs. He did need to think some things out and try to work through some of the pains that haunted him, but he couldn't focus. So he just absently let his mind drift as he sat there, wondering if he would ever feel whole again. He was unaware of Elizabeth watching him from just inside the door, wishing with all her heart she could somehow make all the pain go away.

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Sheppard slapped Rodney's hand, knocking the fork loose from his grip and causing it to clatter to the floor. "Major...now look what you've done! Now I don't have fork," McKay said in disgust.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "If you'd keep your grubby hands off my food, you wouldn't have that problem. I said I didn't want the ...beans or whatever they are...not the stuff that tastes like potatoes. If you can't raid my plate properly, then stay out of it. I'll tell Beckett you're stealing my food and then you'll really be in for it."

McKay looked highly insulted. "Oh, that's right. Sick the Scottsman on me. Talk about not playing fair. It just so happens I **was** reaching for the bean stuff before you slapped my fork into next week. You just didn't give me a chance to get my fork to the right place. Always so impatient."

"So do you want this stuff or not?" asked Sheppard.

"Yes, yes. Move it to my plate while I get another fork. And you can take half my potato stuff. But leave me some of it - I kind of like that stuff in small amounts."

McKay got up to get another fork, while Sheppard went about moving the food around between the two trays. Elizabeth, who was sitting across the table from Sheppard and beside Teyla,turned and looked at the other woman. "So, how old would you say those two are?"

Sheppard grunted. "Just a little harmless food bartering. This way there's no waste. See...we're conserving valuabe food resources." Teyla and Elizabeth exchanged glances again.

McKay returned to the table with a new fork and Ford, carrying a tray of food. "Hey guys! Mind if I join you?"

"Have a seat," said Sheppard. "Just watch your plate if you sit by McKay. His fork tends to wander."

"Huh! Very funny, major!" McKay sat down and pulled his tray closer. "Hello! I said half the potato stuff, not all of it. You left me, what...two bites?"

"Pipe down, McKay. I only took half. They didn't give you very much to begin with."

"I'm sorry - I don't think it's **my** fork that's been wandering here."

Ford looked at Elizabeth and Teyla, a look of uncertainty on his face. Teyla sighed heavily as she returned his gaze. "They have been like this all night I am afraid."

Sheppard and McKay looked up and innocently said in unison. "Like what?" They all looked around at each other for a few moments before bursting out in laughter.

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Sheppard left the mess hall and headed for his quarters. He felt good. Better than he had in a long time. He knew he had a long way left to go both mentally and physically, but he really felt he was making progress. His first day out of the infirmary and he hoped one step closer to being through with this mess. He stepped inside his quarters and stood for a moment. He needed to do one more thing before he turned in for the night. He owed someone a visit. He stood thinking a minute before belting on his holster, loading his gun, and heading out the door. It was time to see Kavanagh.

He stepped into the room with the holding cell and nodded to the two marines on guard. They looked at each other nervously. "Uh...Nice to see you up and around Major Sheppard. When did you get out?"

"This morning," he said, watching Kavanagh eye him from the cell. "I just thought I'd have a little chat with our prisoner, if you don't mind."

They exchanged glances. "No, sir. We don't mind."

Sheppard walked over to the cell and stood as close as possible without running into the shield. "Good."

After a few moments, Kavanagh stood up and walked closer to Sheppard. "What do you want?"

Sheppard stood silently for several seconds. "I want to know why."

The smirk on Kavanagh's face made Sheppard want to slap the expression right off the scientist's face. "As I have told both Dr. McKay and Dr. Weir already, it was only meant to be an experiment. No one was supposed to get hurt. I'm sorry if it caused you any undue discomfort."

Sheppard listened to his heart pound harder and faster as he tried to bring his emotions under control. He kept reminding himself that he came here to get some more of the puzzle pieces so he could figure this thing out and put it behind him. He did not come here to lose his temper or exact revenge. That would be hard considering it almost seemed as if Kavanagh was baiting him. "Discomfort. Huh! Discomfort. Is that what you call it?"

Kavanagh stared at him intently. "Tell me about it major. What did it feel like?"

Sheppard was starting to sweat and all he could think about was the old saying, "Never let them see you sweat." Well, crap. He'd blown that one. "You ever have a muscle cramp, doc? The kind where you just about lay waste to everything in your path trying to get up and walk it out because it hurts so bad."

Kavanagh continued to stare, but did not answer. Sheppard and Kavanagh's eyes were locked and neither was backing down. Sheppard continued. "Now multiply the pain level of that cramp by a factor of four or five and have it in almost every muscle in both legs at the same time. When it finally starts to east a little, the muscles in your arms and shoulders cramp up...and then your back...and then your abdomen. The pain is so intense that it is all you can think of. You aren't aware of what is going on around you. You can't abandon the pain long enough to communicate with anyone. You are alone in the dark with this unbearable pain that keeps shifting locations in a random pattern. Now do this for days. Now do it three times. Would you like to try it? Maybe we can arrange it. Beckett has this whole gene therapy thing and I bet he'd be happy to share the ancient gene with you. I'm sure it would be invaluable for your...research." Sheppard had inched forward and was so close to the shield he could hear the low frequency hum. He could hear his heart beating rapidly as the blood roared in his temples.

Kavanagh smiled. "So sorry, major. Beckett already tried that. The gene therapy didn't work with me. But I'm so glad you helped out with the research. After all, that ancient gene is the only reason you're here. You weren't selected for your intelligence or your contribution to the scientific community. You got a luck of the draw gene. You might as well be a little useful and help us research ancient devices. This was actually part of your job description, when you think about it. And quit whining about a little pain. Plenty of scientists have sacrificed a great deal for the world of scientific knowledge. You're just a soldier. Major...you were just an experiment...so get over it."

Sheppard felt the anger explode in his head like a nuclear bomb. "Open the door and lower the shield," he said quietly, his voice carefully controlled. "That's an order."

Immediately the shield lowered and the cage was open. Kavanagh was watching Sheppard and still the movement caught him totally off guard. Sheppard flew forward in one swift fluid motion, drawing his gun and bringing it forward as he moved. There was no time for a reaction. Instantly the barrel of his gun was pressed against the center of Kavanagh's forehead and he was backed into the bars behind him. They stopped with Kavanagh's back pressing against the bars while the cold metal of the gun was pressed against his head. Sheppard's face was totally expressionless, but the cold void in his eyes scared the crap out of Kavanagh. He knew he was about to die.

"SSSSSheppard...you can't do this!" He whined. "Guards...you can't just stand there while he kills me."

The two young soldiers looked at one another. "Did you hear anything?"

"No," said the other. "Not a thing. Nice quiet day of guard duty."

Sheppard hadn't moved or flinched. His face was hard and cold and Kavanagh was now the one starting to sweat. "Please, major. I'm sorry...please don't kill me."

"Kavanagh...it's your lucky day." Still Sheppard didn't move the gun from Kavanagh's head. "I'm not going to kill you...today. For today, I'm satisfied that I could have killed you ...and that if I change my mind...I can come back. I'm going to check on you quite regularly. As long as it's enough that I **can **kill you at any time, you'll get to live. But if one day that's not enough...BANG!" Sheppard suddenly pushed the gun forward as he yelled bang, causing Kavanagh to yelp and jump. Sheppard holstered his gun and backed out of the cell and the guards closed it, reactivating the shield.

Kavanagh stood cowering in the back corner of the cell, whimpering in fear and visibly shaking. Sheppard's expression hadn't changed much, still cold and hard. Even the guards found it a little unsettling. They had heard that Sheppard could go into a soldier mode that made him deadly, seemingly without emotions. He had killed almost a hundred Genii in one night when they tried to take over the city during a storm.

"Just remember, Kavanagh...I'll be back. I guess you could call this phase four of your experiment. How long does Kavanagh get to live?" He turned and moved toward the door. He hesitated at the room's entrance and glanced at the two soldiers guarding Kavanagh. "He may need some dry pants." And then he was gone. The two men looked at each other, confused, and then walked over to look more closely at Kavanagh. They smiled about the same time as they noticed the dark stain covering the front of Kavanagh's pants.

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Sheppard knew he couldn't go back to his quarters now, so he walked quickly down the hall toward the uninhabitated area of the city. He had genuinely scared himself. When he pulled the gun on Kavanagh and pressed it to his head, he had every intention of pulling the trigger and blowing a nice hole in the man's head. He had only stopped himself in the last second before he pulled the trigger, realizing at the last minute that it would be enough to know that he had the power to kill the man at any time. That did not make what he had almost done any less frightening. And he couldn't guarantee that he would not one day walk into the holding cell and kill Kavanagh. The fact that he would so easily kill a man in cold blood scared the crap out of him. What had he become? He would kill himself. He would kill an unarmed man. He wondered where the real John Sheppard was and if he would ever return.

He looked around to realize he was well into the uninhabited part of the city where he usually ran. He headed for the long, outdoor walkway that skirted the edge of Atlantis in this area. He could run and breathe the ocean air. He needed to run...to put this behind him for a time...to push himself physically without pushing himself mentally. He burst through the last door into the open air and looked into the night time sky. It was cloudy and a little windy and it felt good on his hot face. He started to run. He tried going easy at first, aware of his still sore and tired muscles. But as he ran, he felt the need to go faster and to push harder and he ran without thinking, breathing in the ocean air. His face was hot and the sweat rolled down his face in itchy little streams and soaked his shirt. His lungs burned with their need for oxygen, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, he'd have to think.

He felt the first drops of rain pelt him in the face, their coolness absorbing some of the heat radiating from his body. And still he ran. His legs were burning and getting heavy. His chest felt as though it would explode if he couldn't pull in more oxygen and he could feel his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. The rain was coming faster and harder now and soon he was soaked, but it felt so good. And still he ran. He had no idea how much time had passed or how far he had run, but eventually he could go no further. His legs gave out, dropping him to his hands and knees and he felt the muscles in his abdomen and chest spasm from their recent punishment. He felt his stomach clamp down and barely crawled to the edge of the balcony in time to push his head between the rails and vomit into the ocean. By the time he finished, he was barely conscious. Slowly he pulled himself back from the edge, curling up on the floor of the platform in the pouring rain. He wrapped his arms around his middle as he brought his legs up to his chest and moaned against the now cramping muscles. His whole body shook with tremors as the spasms spread from the abdominal and chest muscles to the muscles in his side like dominoes falling in a row. He was finding it hard to breathe as the spasms slowly radiated into his back muscles and he remembered a song from his childhood. _The headbone's connected to the neckbone. The neckbone's connected to the shoulder bone_He wondered if the muscles were connected like that and the spasms would spread throughout his whole body. His mind drifted. At some point he thought maybe he should call for help, but he didn't think he brought his radio and he was too tired and too weak to look. So he lay curled up in a fetal position, shaking and hurting and trying to breathe in the pouring rain, as he allowed himself to slip into the darkness.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

I know, I'm going on and on. I have such a hard time not dragging things out. Thanks for the very flattering and encouraging reviews. They are the reason I'm sitting here finishing this chapter at one a.m. in the morning...again. I wish I was younger and then I wouldn't sleep through class tomorrow (as if).

Emrys1 - Okay, don't believe everything rogue1503 says. SHE is the one with the hot masseuse, not me. I got my information from her. Now, if I find one, you will be the first to know. I could use a good massage right now - definitely got the tense shoulder, back, and neck thing going. If he happened to be hot to boot, I wouldn't argue.

rogue1503 - You are in so much trouble. Been spreading gossip through your reviews, I see. I happen to know you are in the rather nerve-racking middle of no less than two stories - so get to work woman. Let's focus here.

reyclou - Two can play the "I won't write til you write something" game. No withholding stories - so unfair. (LOL)

Chapter 21

"Elizabeth, this is Carson. Have you seen Major Sheppard this morning?"

Elizabeth looked up from the pile of papers on her desk as she answered the radio call. "No, not this morning. Why? Is there a problem?"

She heard him sigh before answering. "Aye, isn't there always with that lad. He's almost an hour late for his check this morning and I can't find him anywhere. He's not answerin' his radio and no one's seen him."

Elizabeth frowned. "Have you tried his quarters? Maybe he overslept."

"Aye, he's not there. I even went in to check, in case somethin' was wrong, but he wasn't there. His bed didn't look slept in either. When was the last time you saw him?"

Elizabeth stood and began pacing back and forth, the worry starting to set in. "We ate dinner in the mess hall last night with his team. He seemed in very good spirits when we left. I think he headed for his quarters, but I'm not sure. I'll put out a call city wide and see if I can raise him. I'll let you know in a few minutes if I hear anything or not."

"Okay. You know where to find me."

Elizabeth walked out of her office and over to Peter Grodin. "I need to go city wide for a minute."

He touched a panel on the console in front of him and then nodded to her. "May I have your attention. Major Sheppard needs to contact the control room immediately. I repeat, Major Sheppard should contact the control room as soon as possible." She nodded to Peter and he disconnected the link.

"Problem?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I hope not. Let me know if you hear from him."

Five minutes later, Elizabeth received a call. "Dr. Weir, this is Sgt. Miller. Have you found the major yet?"

"No, not yet. Have you seen him?" She was trying to place the soldier in her mind.

"No, ma'm. I don't know if this is important or not but the major came to see Dr. Kavanagh last night and...it got pretty intense."

The fear Elizabeth had been feeling kicked up about three notches. She tried to keep her voice calm. "Okay, thank you Sgt. I'm not sure if that's important or not, but I'm glad you let me know. It might help."

When another ten minutes passed with no word from Sheppard, she called Beckett back. "Carson, it's Elizabeth. No word from John, yet, but I found out he went to see Kavanagh last night. I'm thinking this is not a good sign. I'm going to send out search parties just as soon as I can get them assembled."

"Aye, that's probably wise. We'll be ready when you find him. I imagine our services will be needed."

"I hope not, Carson, but I'll let you know something either way." She paused a second and then changed gears. "Lt. Ford, this is Dr. Weir. I need you to report to the control room."

"I'm here ma'm." Realizing the voice wasn't coming from the radio, she turned to see Ford, McKay,and Teyla standing in her doorway.

"What's wrong with the major?" asked McKay.

She smiled and shook her head. No wonder John had picked these people for his team. They were one step ahead of her. "Major Sheppard is missing. He's an hour late for a check with Carson and no one's seen him. He isn't in his quarters and he doesn't answer his radio. And...I just found out that he went to see Kavanagh last night."

McKay looked worried. "Oh, that can't be good. We need to find him."

Elizabeth nodded. "I want a team searching in the inhabited part of the city and two teams searching the outer areas. Lt., can you coordinate with Sgt. Bates for the other two teams? I'm assuming you guys want to be part of this."

They all nodded. McKay looked at Ford. "Let's take the east side of the uninhabitated area. That's where he usually goes running and probably our best bet."

"Okay. I'll get Bates to set up the other two teams. Get geared up and I'll meet you at the transporter to the east side in...thirty minutes."

As they turned to leave, Teyla looked at Weir. "We'll find him, Dr. Weir." Elizabeth nodded to her, hoping she was right.

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About an hour after leaving the transporter, McKay saw him. He had been checking the outer walkway and connecting rooms while Ford and Teyla searched the inner halls and rooms. "Ford, I found him out here on the walkway. Tell Carson to get a medical team down here!"

McKay rushed over to Sheppard, curled up on his side as he lay on the cold platform floor. He kneeled beside the still figure and placed his fingers on his neck, feeling for a pulse. He noted how cold and pale Sheppard was as he found the slow, weak pulse. "Oh major, what have you done to yourself this time?" He placed a hand on the major's shoulder and shook him gently. "Major, can you hear me? We're here. Carson will be here in a little while. Can you open your eyes and look at me major?" Sheppard's uniform was soaked and McKay realized he was shivering. Teyla and Ford appeared by his side.

"How is he?" asked Teyla.

"Not good. I think he must have been out here all night. His clothes are soaking wet and he's shivering. His skin feels like ice and his pulse is weak and pretty slow." McKay looked down and noticed Sheppard was lying in a puddle of water that had accumulated in a low area. He guessed even the Ancients themselves couldn't avoid those water-collecting low areas that always seemed to appear. "Let Carson know his condition while I try to move him out of this water puddle." He got behind Sheppard and sat him up a little, placing his arms under Sheppard's and around his torso. He then proceeded to drag the unconscious man back toward the wall where the ground was dry.

"I know you're no genius, major, but the least you could do is have enough sense to come in out of the rain," he said to Sheppard as he began removing his vest and coat.

Ford updated Dr. Beckett and then he and Teyla joined McKay. "What are you doing, Dr. McKay?"

McKay sat down with his back against the wall and pulled Sheppard's upper body into his lap. He then lay his jacket across Sheppard's chest. "He's bound to be hypothermic. I'm trying to warm him up. You haven't seen anything that looked like a blanket, have you?"

They both shook their head. They began removing their vests so they could get to their jackets as well. Once they had been removed, they draped them across Sheppard's shivering form, just below McKay's. McKay could feel the pressure of Sheppard's cold, wet clothes pressing into his shirt and making him wet as well. He was already getting chilly in the breezy morning air and he had only been here a few minutes No wonder Sheppard felt so cold. "Hey, major. It's time to wake up."

To his surprise, Sheppard's eyes began to flutter. He looked up at McKay, his slitted eyes looking unfocused, his speech slurred. "Mmmmm...kkkkay...c-c-c-c-c-cold-d-d," he managed through chattering teeth.

"I know, major. Carson is on his way and if I know him, he'll have about thirty blankets for you. We'll have you warmed up in no time. Just hang on and talk to me until he gets here. You can start by telling me why you've been outside in the rain all night. What were you thinking? If you like the infirmary that much, I'm sure there are easier ways of getting yourself back in there. Carson's going to have your hide, you know."

"S-s-s-s-s-so-o-o-o-o...c-c-c-c-cold...B-b-b-b-bec-c-c-tttt," Sheppard closed his eyes as he lost consciousness again.

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Sheppard was vaguely aware of voices beginning to pierce the icy blackness. He didn't know when he'd ever been so cold. After several tries, he finally managed to get his eyes open a slit. A familiar face swam briefly in the gray fog of his vision before the pen light hit, first one eye, then the other, sending lightning bolts of pain stabbing through his head.

"Major, can you hear me?" Beckett's face swam in and out of focus. It was hard keeping his lids open, even for this little bit, because they were so very heavy. He couldn't remember where he was or why he was so cold.

"Doc-c-c-c?" He thought Beckett looked relieved.

"Aye, major. Just hang in there, lad. We'll have you back in no time." He turned away and began talking to someone outside Sheppard's limited vision. "We've got to get him out of those wet clothes and wrapped up in some dry blankets. It'll take a while to walk him back to the transporter and we need to start getting him warm right away."

His eyes had drifted closed, but when he felt hands starting to remove his clothes, he began fighting them, pushing the hands away and trying to kick out. "Nooooooo!" He didn't know what they were doing, but he wanted to be left alone.

Firm hand on his shoulder. "Major, stop fighting. You're suffering from hypothermia and we have to get these wet things off you now. You'll feel a lot better once we have you in some warm, dry blankets." Sheppard stopped struggling, but Beckett thought it was probably due to loss of consciousness instead of his plea to the major. They removed his shirt, put a blanket over him, and then slid his wet pants off. Beckett then made sure he was cocooned tightly inside several blankets as they put him on the gurney and began the long journey back to the infirmary.

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Elizabeth arrived at the infirmary to find Teyla, Ford, and McKay pacing nervously around the waiting area. "How is he?"

"We just got back a few minutes ago. Carson's still with him. It looks like he was outside the rain all night last night. He's got hypothermia. Beyond that...?" McKay shrugged his shoulders.

Beckett joined them several minutes later. "He's got a moderately severe case of hypothermia. His body temperature's down to about 32 degrees Celsius...uh...around ...90 degrees Fahrenheit. We've got him under some warming blankets and I've started some warm fluids through an IV. He's somewhat disoriented now, but that's fairly normal. I'm not sure what else we're dealing with at this time...right now we're just tryin' to get him warmed up. For the most part it looks like he just...over did it and exhausted himself. I'm not sure how many steps backwards we just took...but we did go backwards."

They all stood silently for a few moments, knowing exactly what had caused the backwards steps...Kavanagh.

"If he'd just told us he was going to see Kavanagh...maybe one of us could have gone with him. Why does he think he has to do everything alone?" asked McKay angrily.

"That's just who he is," sighed Elizabeth. "I have a feeling he's always been that way and we're not going to change that. We just have to learn to deal with it and work around it. If we want to help him, we have to make him accept that help."

Teyla set her expression firmly. "Then that is what we will do."

"Well," said Beckett. "He's not going to be doin' any talkin' to anyone for a while. I'd suggest you all go on about your business and drop by later this afternoon. I probably won't know any more until then and the major's going to be out a while." Beckett turned and headed back towards Sheppard's bed.

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Sheppard was first aware of the warmth that surrounded him. He had finally stopped shivering and the blankets that were wrapped tightly around him were comforting, making him feel somehow safe and protected. He slowly opened his eyes to the muted light of the infirmary at night. He tried to move around and shift positions and was surprised by both the heaviness of his muscles and the pain that stabbed through his legs and chest, causing him to emit a slight groan. Almost instantly, Nick and Kelly were standing beside him.

"Hi major. I see you've decided to join the land of the conscious." Nick smiled down at him as he took his pulse.

"What...what happened?"

"How much do you remember?" Nick watched him as he struggled to remember what had happened.

"I remember eating supper...I went...to see Kavanagh...and then..." He saw Kavanagh's smirk in his head and then it all came crashing back on him. "I had to get away...I just ran...Ran until I couldn't run any more. And then I guess I was too tired to make it back."

"Anything else you care to share?" Nick was looking at him with an expression of 'I know there is more'.

"I guess the running...I guess it caused some muscle spasms."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, I would think. Major, you're lucky you didn't really injure yourself. As it is, you've taken several steps backwards."

Sheppard felt his face flush hot with...with what? Anger? Embarrassment? He wasn't sure. "Look...I'm sorry I messed up you and Dr. Beckett's little regimen. I just had to get away from him before I..." Nick didn't miss the look of fear that crossed Sheppard's face.

"Before you what?"

Sheppard breathed deeply and let it out slowly. His voice was low and dark. "Before I killed him." He closed his eyes, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he remembered the hot flash of anger as he had advanced on Kavanagh and pressed the barrel of his gun into the scientist's forehead. He shuddered and felt the light twitching of the muscles in his sides and abdomen. He struggled to move his arms up to cradle his midsection against the oncoming spasms.

Nick pressed him back against the bed. "Major, you need to lie still. You need rest."

"No...spasms coming back...get me out of here." He struggled more violently against the tightly wrapped blankets, the frustration and fear showing in his face.

Nick sent Kelly off to get something while he helped Sheppard loosen the covers. "Take it easy, major. I'll get you loose."

Sheppard seemed to calm a little and Nick finished working the blankets loose so that the major could move freely beneath them. Sheppard rolled onto his side, clutching his ribcage as the muscles began to twitch in earnest. He knew he could handle this. It hurt, but it wasn't near the pain level that had been produced by Kavanagh's little toxic rock. Still, he was somewhat relieved when the happy drugs Nick had just injected into his IV line began to ease the tension and help him slip into the soft, dark void of sleep.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Thanks for all the words of encouragement. I feel better now. Hope you enjoy the next chapter. I'm kind of branching out into a little strange part towards the end of this chapter and continuing into the next. Not sure how that's going to work, but I guess we'll see as we get there.

reyclou - Okay, okay! Sheppard is now warm and dry - no more ice water. By the way, I'm enjoying your sequel. You are writing on that right now, right?

Chapter 22

Beckett entered the infirmary to see both Nick and Kelly working at Sheppard's bed. He silently hoped they were just checking on the major's condition, but he knew there was too much activity for that to be the case. He heard Sheppard coughing as he approached the bed, giving him a pretty good idea what was happening.

They had Sheppard's bed elevated at about a forty-five degree angle and Nick was in the process of adjusting nasal cannula on the major as he struggled to breathe. "Okay, major, that should help. Just give it a couple of minutes."

Beckett stepped up to the foot of the bed. "Nick? What's happened?"

Nick turned to Beckett and handed him Sheppard's chart. "He started running a fever a few hours ago. We're at..." He looked at Kelly.

"He's currently at 102.3," Kelly replied.

"...right, 102.3. He's also developed a nice cough and his breathing has become pretty labored recently. He was really starting to struggle, so we decided to get him some oxygen."

Beckett frowned at the chart and then looked up at Sheppard. His face and eyes looked tired, as if he hadn't slept in days. A thin layer of sweat covered his face, his cheeks flushed with the fever. His breathing still seemed somewhat labored, but not as much as it had earlier. "Major, how do you feel?"

Sheppard looked like he wanted to slug Beckett for asking. "Just peachy, doc. Head hurts...hot, and then I'm cold...darn elephant sitting on my chest is crushing me..." He broke off into a coughing fit and Nick helped him sit up a little more until he got through it. He wheezed heavily, trying to catch his breath again. "Oh...yeah...just...peachy..."

Beckett looked at Nick, worry lines across his brow. "Did you order..."

"Of course. Results should be back soon. Do you want to go ahead and start antibiotics or do you want to wait on the test results?"

Beckett looked at Sheppard, processing how much he had already been through and how weak he already was. "I think we both know we're looking at pneumonia, so let's go ahead with the antibiotics. We need to get on this quick. He's already pretty weak and it's taking hold pretty fast. I think we need to be aggressive in our treatment."

Nick nodded. "I agree. Kelly and I will get the antibiotics started." He turned back to Sheppard and patted him on the leg. "I'll be back in a minute, major. We're going to get you on some kick-butt antibiotics and see if we can't knock this thing into next week." Nick and Kelly headed across the infirmary to get the needed supplies.

Beckett stepped up to the side of Sheppard's bed and checked his IV. He looked down at Sheppard, who was quietly watching him. "I leave you alone a few minutes to take a nap and look what happens. What am I going to do with you, major?"

Sheppard blinked slowly. It seemed to take most of his energy just to breathe. "Sorrrrry...doc...just...trouble...I guessssss."

Beckett smiled. "Aye. That you are, lad. That you are."

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"Oh surely he's awake and warmed up by now. He's been thawing out for almost twenty hours now." McKay led the rest of the team as they barged loudly into the infirmary. Nick met them almost immediately.

"Shhhhhh. You're going to have to quiet down, Dr. McKay. We have patients trying to rest."

McKay just looked annoyed. "Yes, yes, yes," he said more quietly. "We're being quiet. We're just going to say hello to Major Sheppard."

Nick stood fast, blocking their way. "I don't think that's a good idea right now. The major's running a fever and having some trouble breathing. He needs to rest right now."

All three members of the team looked shocked. "When did this happen?" asked Teyla.

"During the night. His fever's been steadily rising ever since. We suspect pneumonia, so we've started him on antibiotics."

"The major's going to be okay, though, right?" asked Ford.

Nick hesitated just long enough to worry the trio. "Probably. The antibiotics should take care of the infection. I...I can't honestly guarantee anything. This infection seems to be very aggressive and the major is very weak. There's no easy way to say this but...mental attitude often has a lot to do with recovery during serious injury or illness and Major Sheppard's been...well, you know...a little out of sorts lately. Still, he was strong and healthy before this whole ordeal began and we caught the infection pretty early, so the prognosis is good."

"Can...can we just see him for a minute? We...we won't disturb him," asked McKay. Nick knew he should probably say no, but he also knew that the team had been through hell and back on several occasions. They depended on each other and were closer than most families. They had suffered with Sheppard the last few weeks and he could see the fear on their faces now. He just couldn't bring himself to say no. So much for remaining the impassive, detached doctor.

"All right, but only for a moment. And for heaven's sake, be quiet. Carson will throw the lot of us out if he catches you." He turned around and quietly led the way across the infirmary to Sheppard's bed.

They stood around Sheppard's bed, watching him sleep and listening to the gentle whistle in his breathing. A nurse was gently wiping the sweat from his face as he mumbled something incoherently in his slumber. Two IV lines hung from the pole beside the bed, the tubes snaking their way down to the major's arm. He looked frail and sick. Somehow it just didn't seem fair. After a few minutes, Nick motioned for them to follow him and he led them back to the entrance to the infirmary. No one said a word as they silently followed the doctor. Once they were back to the doorway, Nick spoke to them again. "Look, I didn't mean to make it sound so serious. The chances are good that the major will be fine. It just may take a little time. We won't know anything for a while, so why don't you guys check back this afternoon." They glumly filed out the door.

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Elizabeth finally shut down her computer and turned it off. She had been staring at the same screen for almost twenty minutes and she still had no idea what it said. She just kept wondering how John was. She'd been to the infirmary several times already and each time Beckett ran her out. She decided to make one final run on the way to her quarters for the night. This time, she would insist on seeing John for a few minutes.

She entered the infirmary a few minutes later to find McKay, Ford, and Teyla sitting around the waiting area in the front. "Why wasn't I invited to the party?" she asked.

"No party," replied McKay sadly.

"How is he?"

McKay leaned forward in his seat and put his head in his hands. He sat there a moment before sitting up and looking at Elizabeth. "His fever keeps edging up. We haven't heard anything in a while, so I guess he's about the same."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'll see if I can find Carson." She walked further into the infirmary, glancing around as she moved forward. Her ears found Sheppard before her eyes did, his coughing attracting her attention. She moved toward him slowly, expecting Beckett to take her by the arm and guide her out at any minute. But Beckett appeared to be busy with Sheppard at the moment, trading his nasal cannula for an oxygen mask as he gave the nurse instructions. Sheppard was mumbling under the mask and occasionally waved an arm feebly at either Beckett or the nurse. Carson finally seemed to finish and turned around, obviously surprised to see her there.

"Elizabeth, you shouldn't be here." His face did not look happy.

"He's worse, isn't he?" she asked, wishing she didn't already know the answer.

"Aye. His fever's up to 104.6. So far he's not responding to anything we've done to lower the fever. We've had him under a cooling blanket for a while, but his fever just keeps going up. I'm starting to get a little concerned. His breathing is gettin' more labored as well. Looks like we're in for a long night."

Sheppard stirred briefly and partially opened his eyes. Beckett leaned forward towards Sheppard. "Major, how are you?"

Sheppard's eyes shifted back and forth between being open and closed. "C-c-c-c-old," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. He kept trying to push the cooling blanket off and the nurse kept pulling it back up over him. Sheppard finally stopped battling the nurse and drifted back off to sleep.

"Now that his fever's up, he's having chills as well. He keeps trying to pull the cooling blanket off. Between that and his breathing problems, I'm keeping a nurse close at hand."

They stood and watched Sheppard for another minute before Beckett finally took Elizabeth by the arm and began leading her away. "Come on, lass. Let's let him rest."

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Sheppard opened his eyes to find himself standing on a beach, his shoes in his hands and the damp sand squishing up between his toes. He looked out at the waves crashing up on the beach around his ankles. The cool water felt good on his feet as he stood on the hot sand. He looked down the length of the beach, but didn't see anyone. It looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He started walking along the edge of the tide line, not sure where he was going or if it even mattered. He walked for several minutes, trying to figure out what he was doing here and where here was.

He was suddenly aware of someone beside him and turned to see who it was just as they touched his arm. He stepped back quickly as he drew in a sharp breath, stumbling and almost falling on his butt.

"John, what are you doing here?" He stood staring at the pretty woman with the hazel eyes and the short, somewhat unruly, dark hair.

"Mom?" he said softly, his voice expressing his confusion. He stood with his mouth open for a minute. He licked his lips, suddenly dry and rough. "Am I...dead?"

The woman smiled and took his hand in hers. "No, son, you're not dead. But you don't belong here. It's not your time yet. You can't give up...you have to go back."

Sheppard pulled his hand from hers and paced nervously around in a circle, running his free hand through his hair. "I don't understand. Go back where? Where are we? And what do you mean I can't give up?"

She continued to smile peacefully. "John, just calm down. Let me look at you. I knew you'd grow up to be a fine boy. A major in the Air Force? I'm very proud of you, you know. You've done well. A lot of people depend on you. That's why you have to go back."

"But mom, I haven't seen you since I was...12. Can't we just talk a while?"

"I'm sorry, John. I can't stay very long. I'm only here to tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you...and that you can't give up. My...you've turned into a handsome man...like your father. He always took my breath away."

"Mom..."

"Shhhh," she placed her fingers on his lips. "Go back, John. They need you. It's where you were meant to be and there is so much waiting for you in Atlantis. And always carry my love with you." He felt her arms around him like when he was a boy and he embraced her, smelling "her" scent for the first time in over twenty years. And then she was gone and he was standing on the beach, alone. the water lapping around his ankles. He felt dizzy, his vision graying, and then he felt like he was falling as the world went black.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Another apology for a long delay. My excuses include a birthday party for my daughter, construction duty for my husband, and being sick as a dog. I thought the incessant coughing was due to breathing in sawdust, but since we've spiraled downhill since then and I can no longer talk or breathe, I think maybe it's something else. I'm thinking Emrys emailed me her illness or I'm having sympathy pains for Sheppard. Anyway, writing withdrawal got the best of me, so here's another chapter. We're almost done (I promise).

As always, you guys have been very nice with the reviews and I thank you very much. That's what keeps me going. You guys are the best!

Chapter 23

McKay snapped his head up, realizing he must have dozed off sitting in the infirmary chair. He glanced around the waiting area to find Teyla, Ford, and Weir asleep in other chairs. He got up and stretched some of the stiffness out of his joints and muscles, stifling a yawn as he moved. Not sure what to do next and not wanting to go back to sleep, he looked toward the darkened ward of the infirmary. Soft light floated out from around a privacy curtain pulled partially around one bed in the far corner. McKay knew that was Sheppard's bed. He found himself moving towards the bed, even though he didn't remember ever making a conscious decision to go there. It had been a couple of hours since Carson had given them an update and the one he had provided wasn't very encouraging. McKay felt a need to see how things were going.

He peered around the curtain to see Carson fussing with Sheppard's covers and a nurse taking Sheppard's temperature.

"Doctor...it's 105, I'm afraid."

Beckett nodded as if he had expected as much. "All right. Let's go with the cold compresses then." The nurse nodded and turned to go, spotting McKay on her way out. She nodded to him, but didn't try to throw him out, much to his surprise.

He stood watching Sheppard's labored breathing for several moments before Beckett saw him. Sheppard stirred, rustling the covers around and moving his head back and forth a couple of times. McKay could hear his muffled mumbling from under the oxygen mask.

"Mom...am...I ...dead?"

McKay looked up at Beckett. "What did he just say?"

Beckett rubbed his face, obviously both tired and concerned. "It's the fever, Rodney. He's delirious."

"He's not doing too well, is he?" asked Rodney, worry evident in his voice. "His breathing sounds worse."

"Aye. I think he's developin' pleural effusion and we may..."

"Carson...English please."

"Sorry, lad. I think fluid is accumulatin' around the lungs. It's making it harder for him to breathe. If it gets any worse, we may have to draw some of it out. The other problem is his fever. We can't seem to get it down. We've had a cooling blanket on him for a while now, and it's not doin' any good. We're going to try cold compresses under the arms and around the groin. I'm hoping that'll help. I really don't like his fever bein' this high, especially for this long."

Sheppard shuffled around in the bed again, mumbling incoherently for a minute before falling still and silent.

When the nurse returned with the compresses, Beckett took McKay by the arm and began leading him away from the bed. "Okay, Rodney, you've checked on him. Now it's time to go. We've got work to do and I don't need you underfoot. Now shoo."

McKay didn't look happy, but he slowly walked away, heading back to the waiting area.

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Sheppard sat across the table from Dex and Mitch. He looked around at the room, remembering the barracks they had occupied in Afghanistan.

"Shep, what are you doing, buddy? You know good and well you're not supposed to be here." Sheppard looked at Mitch, trying to figure out if he was real. The last time he'd seen him, it had been a figment of his imagination and he wondered if this was the case now. He reached across the table and poked the man in the arm. "I'm real Shep. We're really here...and you shouldn't be."

Sheppard pulled his hand back and leaned back in the chair. "Where is here? Why am I not supposed to be here? And how are we in the same place if I'm not dead, because I sure has heck know you two are dead?" The frustration was beginning to show in Sheppard's voice.

The two men exchanged a glance before looking back at Sheppard. "You've given up Shep. We're really surprised, too. We've never seen you give up before, and frankly, I never thought we would. We're just a little disappointed."

Sheppard was starting to get angry. "What is everyone talking about? I'm getting tired of this. I haven't given up on anything...why do you keep saying that?"

"Think about it, Shep. Maybe not consciously, but you have stopped fighting. You're dying, buddy. If you don't kick it into gear soon, you really will be joining us."

Dex continued the thought. "We know you're tired, Shep. Believe me when I say, we can sympathize. We know you've really been through a lot lately, but you've got to put things into perspective. You've got a lot of support these days, if you'll just let your friends help you."

"And you can't let Atlantis down. She's depending on you. The people in Atlantis are depending on you. This is about more than just you. You've got to look at the big picture. You've spent your life looking out after everyone else, Shep. You need to do it one more time. Atlantis is your destiny."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows. "My destiny? Since when did you two get so...philosophical? And besides, how would you know what my destiny is anyway? This is all getting just a little creepy."

Dex sighed. "Yeah, I know the destiny stuff sounds a little...melodramatic or something. But it carries the right point. Atlantis is where you were meant to be. You are not there by random chance...you have a purpose. But you have to be alive to fulfill that purpose."

"So buckle down and get with the program, Shep. A lot of people are depending on you. A lot of people **will** depend on you."

Sheppard just shook his head. "I don't know if I'm swallowing this stuff, guys. This is probably just some stupid dream, anyway. But just in case it's not...I've really missed you guys."

They looked at each other and smiled before looking back at Sheppard. Mitch said, "It's not a dream, Shep. It's real. And we've really missed you too."

Sheppard felt the world spinning around him and his two friends blurred out of sight as he once again fell into the darkness.

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Nick looked at Carson's worried expression as they listened to Sheppard's heavy wheezing, audible over the gentle hissing of the oxygen. "Thoracentesis?" he asked? Carson just nodded. "I'll get a syringe." said Nick as he left.

Nick was on his way back to Sheppard's little corner of the infirmary when his team confronted the doctor. They looked a little scared when they saw the rather large needle and syringe on the tray he was carrying.

"Is that for the major?" asked Teyla, obviously worried.

Nick nodded. "I'm afraid he's developed a little fluid problem around his lungs and he's having a lot of trouble breathing. Carson't just going to draw some of it out. It should help him breathe easier."

"What about his fever?" asked McKay. "Carson was going to use cold compresses to help bring his temperature down."

Nick looked grim. "We're not having much luck in that area. Last time we checked he was up to 105.8. I've never seen a fever so relentless before. We're still using the compresses, as well as the cooling blanket. I've got to get back to Major Sheppard. I'll tell Carson to come talk to you after we remove some fluid."

The group nodded and watched Nick move quickly toward Sheppard's bed, but they made no attempt to return to the waiting area. After a few minutes, they silently made their way to the curtained area where their friend lay, drenched in sweat and struggling for every breath. They watched in fascinated silence as Beckett withdrew a large amount of fluid from Sheppard's chest. They were relieved when his breathing seemed to ease a little.

"Carson," said Rodney. "Is he going to get better now?" He looked so hopeful.

Beckett's face was hard to read. "I don't know. The infection is so aggressive and he's giving in so quickly. I know his immune system is weak from what all has happened so far, but still..."

"What?" asked Ford.

"I don't know. It's as if he's just given up...as if he's not fightin' at all. We've done all we can. It's up to him now, pure and simple. And if he doesn't do something soon..."

Each silently wondered if Sheppard would make it through the night.

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"Major, just what the heck do you think you are doing?"

Sheppard whipped his head around to see Colonel Sumner standing in the gateroom of Atlantis. He held his hand up in a "stop" motion. "I know this one. Let's see...I'm not supposed to be here, right?"

"You're darn right, you're not supposed to be here. What is wrong with you, son? Maybe they teach you to quit in the Air Force, but we marines never quit. Must be a flyboy thing. Or maybe it's just you not doing your job again."

"I do my job!" he yelled. "I've done my job, sir. And I've done your job too. I didn't have much choice. You left me...you left me with all of it. I came to this God-forsaken galaxy because of a stupid random gene and I ended up being responsible for everyone...and everything...And just in case you haven't been watching...I've pretty well screwed it up. On top of waking the wraith and getting a few million people killed, I've even got my own people trying to kill me. How much more screwed up can it get?"

Sumner's expression softened a little. "You haven't screwed it up. I have to admit...I expected you to. I thought you were some hot-headed cowboy who'd get everyone killed. I was wrong. You've done a fine job, major, under very bad circumstances. You're a good leader and the men respect you. Atlantis needs you..."

"Do you know how many times I've heard that today? It's really getting old. Everyone keeps telling me the same stuff. Atlantis needs me. I don't belong here. I've given up. I wish someone would sing a new song...or least a new verse."

"Maybe you need to listen. Be honest Major Sheppard...do you want to die?"

Sheppard thought for a minute. He had to admit, the thought of just sliding away and not having any more pain or responsiblilty or fear or anger...was tempting. But then again..."No, I don't want to die."

Sumner smiled. "Good choice kid. And I speak from experience. Then get up off your butt and fight. I'm not sure if it's too late or not, so if you're going to do this, you better start now." Sumner turned as if to leave.

"Colonel?" Sumner turned around. "When I shot you...the wraith was feeding...I thought..."

"You did the right thing, major. You did the only thing you could."

Sheppard breathed a sigh of relief...and Sumner was gone. Sheppard suddenly felt very tired and he didn't fight it when the darkness once again overcame him.

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"Doctor?" Beckett sat bolt upright in the chair, realizing that he must have dozed off. A nurse was standing over him, smiling. He looked beyond her, concerned about his patient.

"What's happened?" he asked worriedly as he got to his feet.

"It's okay, Dr. Beckett. I just thought you'd like to know. Major Sheppard's temperature has finally started to come down. I just took it and he's down to 104.1. I know that's still high, but at least it went down instead of up for once."

Beckett nodded enthusiastically. That was the first piece of good news he'd had in well over twenty-four hours and he was thrilled. He nudged Nick, sleeping in the chair next to him. "Get up, Dr. Strauhan...Major Sheppard's temperature is finally starting to come down." Nick yawned and stretched a minute before looking up at Beckett.

"Did I hear you right?"

"Yes you did. 104.1 degrees." Beckett leaned over and spent the next few minutes listening to Sheppard breathe with his stethoscope. After a few minutes, he pulled the earpieces down around his neck. "I think his breathing may be a little easier too. I'll go inform his team. It'll be nice to give them some good news for once."

Beckett almost raced to the waiting area. When the team saw his hurried steps, they all jumped to their feet, fearing the worst until they saw a smile break out on the tired doctor's face.

"Carson, how is he?" asked Elizabeth, her question reflected on all of their faces.

"Better. His fever's startin' to come down finally and his breathin' seems to be a little less labored. I think we may have finally turned a corner." They all sighed in relief and broke into broad grins. the built up tension of the night starting to slowly slide away.

"Can we see him?" asked Rodney.

"Not yet, Rodney. Maybe later today. We'll see how he does as the day progresses. Right now I want all of you out of here. I want everyone to get a bite of breakfast and then go get some rest. I don't want to see any of your faces until after lunch, is that clear?"

Mixed expressions displayed both their relief at Sheppard's improvement and their dismay at not being allowed to see him. In the end, Beckett won and they agreed to come back after lunch.

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Sheppard was first aware of a pressure on his chest, as if someone was pressing down on him...or maybe sitting on him. He briefly wondered where Rodney was - it would be so like him to think that was funny. And then he thought he heard Rodney's voice. He tried to focus on it, to bring himself to where he could hear more clearly. Just to hear for now. He didn't really want to go for opening his eyes just yet. It was still taking a lot of energy just to breathe.

"...said we could see him after lunch. I ate lunch already. I can prove it...I had some kind of casserole thing - tasted sort of like really bad tuna, but we probably don't have any tuna left, so there's no telling what it really was, but..."

"Rodney! Will you pipe down. You're going to wake the major up. This is the reason I made ya wait until later in the first place. We bring the man back from the bloody brink of death and you talk him to death. I meant after lunch **time**, not after you ate something so you could say you had lunch." Sheppard would recognize the Scottish accent and protective instinct anywhere. He would have smiled if he'd had the energy. It was time to intervene.

"Rod...ney?" he croaked. He realized he had an oxygen mask on and they probably hadn't heard him. They may not have heard what he said, but they did recognize that he'd made a sound. He finally hitched his eyes open a slit to see Beckett and McKay hovering over him from opposite sides of the bed.

"Major? How do you feel, son?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard wasn't sure he had enough energy to play twenty questions. "Chest...hurts...little...hot."

"You have pneumonia and you've had a lot of fluid build up around your lungs. That's why your chest hurts and it's probably hard to breathe. We've got you on oxygen for now. You're fever was pretty high last night. You had us all really worried for a while, but it's coming down now. You'll probably carry some fever for a little while longer though."

"Well, Major, that's what happens to people who don't have enough sense to come in out of the rain, especially when you've worn yourself down. Guess you need a genius like me to watch out after you after all," McKay teased.

They watched as Sheppard struggled to keep his eyes open, obviously not having much luck. Beckett patted his arm. "It's okay, Major. just give it up and go on back to sleep."

Sheppard's eyes shot open. "No!...said...can't...give up."

"Who said you can't give up?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard's eyes had already started to flutter again. "Mom...Dex...Mitch...Sumner..."

Beckett and McKay looked at each other in confusion. Then McKay sighed as if he understood. "You've been talking to dead people again, haven't you? What is it with you and talking to dead people?"

Sheppard's eyelids were barely twitching, indicating he was about to lose the battle. "More...interessssssss..." he trailed off as all eye movement ceased and he drifted back to sleep.

"I'd say he's done for now. Why don't you go back to your lab or somethin' and check back later. He'll sleep a while now and that's the best thing for him. He's still spottin' a pretty good fever and a bit of congestion. He's not goin' to bounce back in a day. It takes a while to get over pneumonia." Carson motioned for Rodney to leave, but Rodney just continued to stand there. "Rodney...he's going to be fine, but you need to leave now. Come back later this evening and I may let you sit a while."

McKay didn't look happy, but he nodded and headed for the door. "Take good care of him."

Beckett smiled. "Don't I always?" McKay smiled back and nodded, seemingly satisfied, and left.

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Two days later, Sheppard was propped up in bed with McKay, Ford, Teyla, and Weir around him. He had traded in the oxygen mask for nasal cannula, which he insisted he no longer needed. Beckett, however, insisted differently and since Beckett always won out in the infirmary, the major got to keep his oxygen support. They were all very much relieved at how much the major's color had improved, along with his breathing. He still had a little fever, but Beckett was confident that wouldn't last much longer.

"So, have you ever decided what to do with Kavanagh?" Sheppard asked Weir.

"Yes...we have. Are you sure you're up to talking about this?"

Sheppard smiled. "Yeah, I'm good. I've put a lot of things into perspective thanks to Mit...I've done a lot of thinking and I've gotten a handle on some things."

McKay hadn't missed it. "There he goes...talking to dead people again."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Lay off, McKay."

Elizabeth looked at him, studying his expression. "What's he talking about?"

Sheppard shifted uncomfortably beneath the covers. "Do you...believe...in spirits...or souls? I talked to...some people while I had the fever. They all told me the same thing...that Atlantis needed me and I couldn't give up. They kept saying Atlantis was...my destiny."

"Did you give up?" They looked around to see Beckett had joined the group.

Sheppard looked a little sheepish. "Not consciously...but I think maybe unconsciously...I remember thinking it would be so nice not to be afraid or in pain any more. Anyway, if I did, they badgered me out of it. Mitch and Dex kept telling me to think of the big picture...to think of Atlantis and not myself."

"Who else did you talk to, sir?" asked Ford, his eyes wide with amazement.

"My mom...she died when I was twelve." He bit his lower lip until he tasted blood, trying not to let the emotions flood to the surface as he remembered seeing him mom on the beach...just as she had been when he was a kid. He suddenly remembered why the beach had looked familiar. They had visited that beach the weekend before his mom was killed in a car accident and his life went to hell.

"Major?" He jerked his attention back to the present, self-conscious that he had let himself wander away in front of everyone.

"Sorry...just remembering something." He shifted around again, trying in vain to get comfortable. "I also talked to Sumner. That was interesting. He told me to get up off my butt and fight."

"Good advice. I'd say it worked," said Beckett. "Of course, it was all probably due to the fever. You were quite delirious for a while, major. Mumbling and carrying on in your sleep."

Sheppard seemed almost far away as he replied. "I don't know, doc. It seemed so real. I could...touch them...smell them...I was there...they were there...It wasn't like any dream or hallucination I've ever had."

"My people believe that the spirits of the Ancestors help guide us through difficult times. Those people who were close to Major Sheppard could have been helping him through a difficult time when he needed guidance," added Teyla.

McKay shook his head. "No...I think it's more likely that somewhere deep in his subconscious, he realized that he had given up and that he needed a little...push. Since he knew he wouldn't listen to himself, after all no one else does either, he chose to give himself a kick as other people."

Sheppard disagreed. "No, no. If that was it, why wouldn't I have you or Teyla or someone here in this room be the one to give me a pep talk. And by the way, I resent that remark about no one listening to me."

McKay sighed in annoyance. "Hell - ooo. Obsession with dead people. I'm telling you, you have some sort of creepy thing for talking to dead people in your past. I bet you dream about them too, don't you?" McKay snapped his fingers. "Oh my God, that's why you walk the halls at night..."

"McKay! My sleep habits are none of your business. Let's just drop it. It doesn't matter anyway. Whatever it was, real or just a dream, I'm okay now. I'd appreciate it if we could go back to my original question, which was what is going on with Kavanagh?"

Elizabeth sat up a little straighter. "Okay, here's what we did. I got together several of the senior staff members for a kind of committee. We discussed what Kavanagh did and what types of crimes he would be charged with if we were on earth. We have decided to hold him in custody indefinitely...a lot depending on if we are ever able to return to earth. In the meantime, while he is in custody, we decided that he should earn his keep since supplies are limited and he's caused all sorts of problems. At present, he is working in Sector D. We found some tanks that are accessory tanks to what serves as Atlantis's septic system. We think we'll eventually want to bring them on line. So Kavanagh has been assigned, with a guard of course, to clean each one of them out...by hand...with a bucket and a rag. It should take him several weeks. I've been told the smell is somewhat...unpleasant. After he finishes with that...well...I'm sure we can find something equally deserving of his talents."

Sheppard closed his eyes and leaned his head back on his pillow, mentally picturing Kavanagh on septic tank duty. He grinned broadly. "Ohhhh, yeah. I think I like it. I guess he's whining and complaining."

Elizabeth smiled and looked at him with an accusatory sideways glance. "No...actually he's not saying much. According to the guards, he's been a model prisoner ever since your little visit. I don't know what you said...or did...but he just keeps asking that you not be allowed near him. Care to elaborate?"

Sheppard's expression remained neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's what I thought," she said.

TBC

Almost done.


	24. Chapter 24

You are never going to believe it, but you have finally made it. This is the last chapter. I can never thank you enough for all the wonderful, encouraging, and supportive reviews. Never in my wildest imagination did I dream of such a wild and exhilarating ride as what you have given me. I know it's been a long and somewhat tiresome journey, but thanks for sticking with me and I hope you had half as much fun reading it as I had writing it and reading your reviews. It's not near enough, but...THANKS!

Chapter 24

Sheppard straightened his vest one more time before heading out of his quarters for his first off world mission in months. He felt a little nervous and a little rusty. He'd been working hard to build back his strength and stamina, running and working sticks with Teyla daily. He was a little worried about how loosely his uniform seemed to fit. He'd only gained back about half the weight he'd lost and Beckett was not particularly happy. His appetite had only recently begun to come back to normal as his activity level had increased. He'd finally convinced Beckett that the return to active duy would undoubtedly return his appetite to normal.

He felt good. He felt well. He felt...healthy. There had been no muscle cramps or major tremors since his fever broke. Beckett thought perhaps the fever had finished sweating any remaining toxins out of his system. So the pneumonia had had a silver lining after all. He'd talked to Heightmeyer several times and, strangely enough, he hadn't really minded. He hadn't shared every little detail with her. Some things were for him and him alone and always would be. But he'd told her the things she had wanted to know about and, for the most part, been honest with her. Whether his ghostly visitors had been real or just his fevered subconscious, he would never know. But they had helped him face some things and put things into the proper perspective. They had helped him cope. And he** was **coping. He was more at peace with himself and the things that had happened to him than he would have thought possible. He didn't even want to kill Kavanagh any more - he was content to visit Sector D ever so often and watch him clean septic tanks. He always made sure Kavanagh saw him, though. A little sadistic he supposed, but better than blowing the man's head off. At least he hadn't made him pee his pants lately.

"Hey, sir. Headed to the gateroom?" Ford pulled up beside him as he walked down the hall.

"Yeah. It's almost time to go."

Ford nodded. "How do you feel, sir? First mission in a while and all."

"I'm good. I'm ready. A little excited, I guess." He tried not to show his nervousness.

"Good morning Major Sheppard, Lt. Ford," said Teyla, joining them as their halls met and merged into one corridor.

"Morning Teyla," they both replied.

"Have you seen Dr. McKay?" she asked.

"Right here," they heard him call as he ran down the hall to join them.

"Hey, hey, the gang's all here," said Sheppard, grinning. Now that he was surrounded by his team, he was beginning to feel more at ease. After all, it was only a small mission to check out an abandoned village with a small energy reading. Of course, you never knew. Sometimes those little missions had a way of blowing up in your face. He smiled as he realized he could hardly wait to step through the gate and see what waited on the other side. There just wasn't anything as exhilarating - with the exception of flying, of course.

He was looking down and doing a last minute check of his uniform to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything (easy to do when you hadn't been on active duty for months). They stepped out into the gateroom and he took several steps before he realized anything was up. He noticed his team had fallen a few steps behind and it was unusually quiet. He looked up and his mouth dropped open in amazement. The perimeter of the gateroom was flanked by military personnel standing at attention. At a command, they all saluted their commanding officer, standing in the middle of the room and slowly turning in a circle, taking in the incredible sight. The balcony above was filled with non-military personnel, all here to show support for the return of the citiy's second in command. Sheppard came to attention and returned the salute of his men. His men. He had never really thought about it before, but they were his men. Emotions began to well up inside him. threatening to overwhelm him. He had never in his life had a show of support like this and he had not expected it now. He looked over to Ford.

"You knew?" his voice barely a whisper as he fought to gain control.

Ford smiled and nodded. "Some of the men...well...they though you might be a little uncertain after being off duty so long and they just wanted you to know how much they respect you and...that we are all still behind you a hundred percent. We're glad to have you back on duty as our CO. It's an honor to serve under you, Major." Ford saluted Sheppard, which really almost brought tears to his eyes as he saluted back.

"Thank you, Lt." He still couldn't quite believe it. He just kept staring at what had to be over half the people in Atlantis, showing support for him. Maybe they had been right. Maybe Atlantis was his destiny. He certainly felt like he belonged here, more than anywhere else he had ever been. His eyes fell on Elizabeth, standing in her customary place on the balcony to bid them farewell. Dr. Beckett and Dr. Strauhan stood beside her. Man, did he owe those two big time. He smiled and waved at them.

"Is your team ready, Major Sheppard?" she called.

"We're ready. Dial it up." He turned and watched as the gate was dialed and the wormhole engaged. He stared at the shimmering blue puddle. It had been so long. He looked at the other members of his team, all of them grinning from ear to ear, aware of his amazement and excitement.

Teyla waved her hand toward the gate. "I believe you should go first, Major. It is time for you to return as the leader of this team."

Sheppard smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Teyla." He stepped forward and stopped a few inches in front of the event horizon, reaching his finger out and touching the puddle. He turned around and looked at Weir.

"Be safe," she said.

"We will," he replied. He turned back to the blue puddle before him and stepped through. John Sheppard was back.

THE END

Thanks again. Hope you enjoyed the ride. Please wait until the vehicle has come to a full and complete stop before exiting.


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